


The Ink Demonth

by phantomthief_fee



Series: BATIM Drabbles [20]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Alternate Universe, Body Horror, Emotional Baggage, Found Family, Insanity, Nightmares, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 16:30:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 31
Words: 31,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19429795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomthief_fee/pseuds/phantomthief_fee
Summary: Writings based on "The Ink Demonth" event prompts from @halfusek on Tumblr.





	1. Music

@halfusek created this thing called [The Ink Demonth](https://halfusek.tumblr.com/post/185301289214/something-inky-this-way-comes-starting-this-year). And since it reminded me of BATIM Inktober, which I really enjoyed, I thought I’d do it.

Day 1 is Music

* * *

Jack had stumbled into songwriting. He felt pretty bad about that, especially since Sammy lived and breathed music. He’d been that way ever since he and Jack had been kids. Sammy’s mother loved to tell stories about how Sammy as a toddler had stumbled up to the piano and started banging away at the keys. They’d always known he was going to go into some career involving music. Jack had been a little different. He liked writing, poetry especially, but he didn’t exactly have the same passion for it that Sammy did for music. 

Jack loved Sammy. The other boy was his best friend, practically his brother. But he couldn’t help but be jealous of him sometimes. Sammy had a forceful personality, big dreams, and a drive that was second to none. Compared to him, Jack was rather…bland. Then again, though, Sammy had always been considered peculiar by many others. But people remembered Sammy. 

It was easy to forget Jack, even when he was right in front of you. He was quiet, keeping to himself most of the time. He didn’t start fights unless someone was threatening Sammy. He was always scribbling something in his notebook. He wasn’t entirely sure how he could transfer his scribblings into a career, though.

“I just don’t know what I’m gonna do with my life.” He groaned. He and Sammy were in Sammy’s treehouse, avoiding Sammy’s little sister. Sammy was tuning his banjo, which he wasn’t supposed to have in the treehouse, while Jack laid on the floor. His notebook was on his chest and his pencil was clamped between his teeth. He liked to chew on it when he was thinking. 

“We’re 12, we have time,” Sammy replied, not even looking up from his instrument.

“I know, but you already know you’re gonna do something with music.” Jack waved his hand in a wide stroke. “But what am I gonna do?”

“We’ve got time,” Sammy repeated, rolling his eyes. “Dad says no one stays the same forever. I might not be a musician.” Jack sat up, giving him an incredulous look. He gestured to the banjo, then to the numerous other instruments strewn across the treehouse. 

“Okay, fine.” Sammy avoided his gaze, his cheeks turning red. “But still. No one stays the same forever. You’ll find something you wanna do.”

“But what if I end up doing something I hate?” Jack flopped back down. “I don’t wanna end up working at a bank and being miserable like Mr. Perkins.” Sammy put down his banjo, dragging Jack up and putting his hands on his shoulders. 

“Jack.” His expression was grave. “I am **never** letting you end up like Mr. Perkins.”

“Really?” Jack asked quietly.

“Really.” Sammy nodded, his face screwed up with determination. “You’re my friend and I’m not gonna let you be alone and miserable.” Jack couldn’t help but smile. He always felt better knowing that Sammy had his back. 

They drifted apart after they graduated from high school. Sammy, predictably, went off into a career in music. Jack ended up as a copywriter. It wasn’t a bad job, but Jack wasn’t exactly happy with it. He certainly wasn’t miserable, but he didn’t have the best life either. He was just sort of…coasting by. Then Sammy had called to say that he had a job for him. Despite not knowing what the job was, Jack immediately accepted. He quit his job and moved to New York to follow Sammy. Sammy was waiting at the airport to pick him up.

“I didn’t think you’d just drop everything to come here.” Sammy laughed as he took a few of Jack’s bags. 

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t exactly happy.” Jack shrugged. Sammy’s expression softened. 

“It’s good to see you, Jack.” He put a hand on his friend’s back. 

“It’s good to see you too.” Jack smiled back.

Together, they took Jack’s luggage to Sammy’s car and headed to Sammy’s apartment. They’d agreed that Jack would stay with him until he found an apartment of his own. On the way, Sammy filled him in on what he was doing now. Jack was honestly rather impressed. He’d seen the Bendy cartoons once or twice. It was amazing to think Sammy had contributed to _that_.

“So, what is this job, anyway?” Jack asked as they carried his bags up to the apartment. “I never really asked.”

“You’ll be working with me,” Sammy said. “Writing lyrics for my songs.”

“Lyrics?” Jack frowned. “I thought your songs didn’t need lyrics.”

“Joey’s developing a new character. She’s going to ** _sing_**.” There was a quality of awe in Sammy’s voice. 

“Oh really?” A mischevious smile spread across Jack’s face. “Are you excited about the character? Or the person playing her?” Sammy went bright red and almost dropped the suitcases he’d be carrying. 

“T-The character!” He sputtered. “Just come on!” Jack’s smile widened, but he said nothing else. 

Working at Joey Drew Studios turned out to be like no job Jack had ever had before. Writing the lyrics was simple enough, but the people there…They were all rather strange. Especially Joey himself. Everyone seemed to have some sort of quirk that made them different from others Jack had interacted with. But he liked most of them. They all seemed like lovely people. Except maybe Joey. But he liked working with Sammy. He liked working with Susie. 

He finally felt like he understood what Sammy felt like. Sammy had said once that music flowed through his veins. That he heard music even when he was sleeping. Working in Joey Drew Studios with Sammy, Jack finally felt like he understood that. He finally felt connected to music. 


	2. Growth

Today is Growth. So it’s Joey and Bertie time~ We’re gonna have some _emotional_ growth!

Featuring my Joey very prominently

* * *

Bertram had never expected to see Joey Drew again. After Henry had freed the former employees from the studio, most had gone their separate ways. Some still kept in touch from what Bertram understood, but most of them had tried to get on with their lives and put the events of the studio behind them. Certainly, no one was trying to keep in contact with the man who’d done this to them. Lacie still kept in touch with Thomas, Shawn, and Grant, which by extension meant they also heard from Allison, Wally, and Jack. Bertram lived with Lacie now, in a little house in the suburbs of Milwaukee, close to his sister and her husband. He didn’t really work anymore, although Lacie had taken a job at a mechanic shop to keep herself busy. She liked staying busy. 

In any case, Bertram had never expected to see Joey Drew again. Not after everything that had happened. Not after nearly over a year. Which was why Bertram had been so surprised to look up from his book and see Joey standing on the sidewalk leading up to the porch. He immediately tensed at seeing the former studio head, ready for a fight. Part of him expected things to go the way they had the last time. Joey would speak sweet words of poison and Bertram would end up hurt or worse, drawn into the tangled web of Joey’s plans. 

But Joey looked smaller somehow, less sure of himself. There were dark circles under his eyes. The clothes he was wearing looked like hand-me-downs, judging mostly by how ill-fitting they were. His hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, a style Joey had only ever utilized on the worst of days at the studio. There were a few streaks of grey in it now. He kept wringing his hands, his eyes looking everywhere but at Bertram, and he was chewing on his lip. Bertram didn’t think he’d ever seen Joey Drew nervous before. So he took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. 

“Mr. Drew.” He closed his book, setting it down beside his chair. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Joey blinked, stunned by the fact that he hadn’t immediately been yelled at. He stood there, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. Across the street, a car honked. 

“Talk to him!” A woman yelled, sticking her head out of the car. She bore a familial resemblance to Joey, especially in the face shape and the nose. A sister, Bertram concluded. He’d heard Joey had an older sister he wasn’t close to.

“I’m going to!” Joey went bright red, turning back to yell back at her. 

“I suppose that’s your sister, then.” Bertram smiled despite himself. 

“Oh, um, yes.” Joey turned back to him. “I’ve, uh, I’ve been staying with her and her family lately. She’s been…helping me.” He smiled slightly, gazing down at his feet. The expression was tender and soft. So different from anything he’d displayed while he’d been head of the studio.

“Would you like to come inside?” Bertram rose from his chair. 

“I mean, I wouldn’t want to intrude.” Joey smiled nervously. “I only really came here to say one thing. It shouldn’t take too long.”

“You’ve come all this way.” Bertram gestured him over, opening the front door. “It would be rude to turn you away without inviting you in.”

“Well…alright.” Joey gave a quick thumbs up to his sister in the car and went inside. 

The house was small but tidy. Bertram had done a lot of organization since they’d moved in. His sister had had his things stored away, so he was able to have most of his comforts once again. Lacie’s possessions had been lost as her landlord had thrown them out after she’d been missing for six months. She’d been upset at this, but there wasn’t much they could do. He’d comforted her as best he could. They had new things now. Books and house plants and little machines Bertram had been tinkering with. Bertram was particularly proud of the house plants. Wally had been teaching him how to properly take care of them and he hadn’t killed one in nearly a month!

“This is really nice.” Joey looked around in wonder. 

“Thank you, I’ve done quite a lot of work to make it look good.” Bertram beamed. “I picked out the paint colors, but we ended up having to ask Mr. Flynn to assist us with properly painting. Lacie and Mr. Connor built the shelves themselves. She didn’t really trust a store to make them properly.” 

He continued talking about the work they’d done as he led Joey to the kitchen. Joey was a little taken aback to see the park design so happy and open. He wasn’t sure if any of the other studio employees had ever seen this side of Bertram, but he certainly hadn’t. He’d probably been responsible for the majority of Bertram’s misery at the studio. He certainly hadn’t made things easy for him.

“In any case, what brings you here?” 

“Um, sorry?” Joey snapped back to reality, realizing they had reached the kitchen. It was just as cozy as the rest of the house. There was a cat calendar on the wall, little knick-knacks on the shelves, a good number of cookbooks. 

“What brings you here?” Bertram repeated, moving to fill up a kettle. “Milwaukee is a long way from New York. That is where you’re staying, yes?”

“Oh, yes.” Joey hovered nervously beside the kitchen table. “Well, I, uh, um…” He licked his, eyes darting around the room. Bertram set the kettle on the stove, turning it on. He kept his back to Joey, sensing it might be easier for the other man to say what he needed to say if Bertram’s eyes weren’t on him. 

“I came…to apologize.” Joey finally said after a minute of hesitation and stammering. 

“To apologize?” Bertram asked. His voice was neutral, but his grip on the counter loosened. He hadn’t entirely realized how tight he’d been gripping it.

“Yes.” Joey nodded, fumbling out a piece of paper from his pocket. “I, um, I have a list I’ve been working down. Former employees I need to apologize to. Essie said it would be good for me to make amends.”

“That’s good of you.” Bertram smiled to himself, getting out a few cups and some teabags. 

“You all deserve an apology. You deserve so much more than that too.” Joey clutched the paper to his chest, hunching his shoulders. “But…An apology is all I can really give. I can’t…I can’t undo what I did. So…” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m truly and utterly sorry. The things I did are inexcusable and reprehensible and I understand that there is nothing I can truly do to fix this.”

“That is true. There is precious little you can do to fix your mistakes.” Bertram poured the boiling water into the cups, turning and putting them on the table. “Still, I appreciate that you are attempting to make amends. The Drew I met in that damnable studio would never do such a thing unless he had to.” He settled at the table, stirring the tea with a spoon. 

“I…Is that a compliment?” Joey’s brow furrowed in concern. He was still waiting for the moment when Bertram would snap, would berate him for all he’d done.

“It is,” Bertram assured him. “I believe you are a better man than you were. Or you are trying to become better at the very least.” Joey watched him for a moment or two, relief and confusion mixing on his features. Finally, though, he smiled. 

“Thank you.”

“In any case, I appreciate the apology.” Bertram continued. “Lacie should be home soon if you’d like to apologize to her as well.”

“I…I would.” Joey nodded. His shoulders hunched again at the thought of speaking with her. Lacie Benton had no tolerance for bullshit and didn’t suffer fools lightly. He couldn’t imagine she harbored any good feelings toward him. Not after everything he’d done to her.

“Well, then.” Bertram nudged a chair toward Joey. “Take a seat.”

They spent an hour together before Lacie arrived. The conversation was rather awkward at times but they knew they both needed it. Joey apologized for disrespecting Bertram time and time again, which Bertram happily accepted. Eventually, the conversation got around to their families. That was a bit of an easier topic to talk about.

“Did someone take over the company after you…disappeared?” Joey asked, visibly hesitating on the last word. 

“My sister, Charlotte, took care of it for a bit,” Bertram replied. “But it’s under the care of her son Augustus at the moment.”

“Did you try to take the company back?” Joey asked. He expected the answer would be yes. If there was something he and Bertram had in common, it was their tendency to work until their bodies or minds gave out.

“I considered the possibility, but Charlotte wouldn’t hear of it.” Bertram laughed, shaking his head. “She told me I’m a workaholic who needs to take a break.”

“Sounds familiar.” Joey murmured with a wry smile. 

“Besides, the company is in good hands.” Bertram waved a hand dismissively. “Augustus is a capable man. Charlotte and Louis did a good job raising him.”

“That must be reassuring.”

“It is.” Bertram allowed himself a small smile. “How is your family?”

“They’re…” Joey twisted his mouth, searching for the right words. “I wish I had tried to see them sooner.” His sister had gotten married. He had a niece and a nephew. A niece and a nephew who were adults and had never met him before Esther had brought him back to the house. He’d abandoned his family and now they didn’t know him anymore.

“That’s understandable.” 

Joey breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the front door open. He hadn’t particularly wanted to fall to pieces in front of Bertram. He was still emotionally raw when it came to his failings with his family. 

“I’m back.” Lacie’s voice came from the entry hall. “Went by the store and picked up some of that rose tea you liked.”

“Thank you! I’m in the kitchen!” Bertram called. Joey sat up a bit straighter, pulling out his list again. His reminder of who he needed to make amends to. The heavy sound of Lacie’s boots grew closer until she appeared in the doorway. She stared at Joey. Her jaw clenched and her hold on the tin of tea tightened. 

“What is _**he**_ doing here?” The word had so much venom in it Joey almost wanted to turn and run. But he didn’t. He took a deep breath. 

“Hello, Miss Benton.” He stood up, trying to still his shaking hands. His legs were still shaking, though. “I-I’ve come here to apologize.”

“He’s already given me his apology,” Bertram said. Lacie’s eyes flicked over to him momentarily before going back to Joey. 

“Fine.”

“Than- Thank you.” Joey took a deep breath. “I’m…I’m sorry for all the things I did to you. I know that won’t fix everything I’ve done, but I want you to know that I truly regret my actions.”

The silence following his apology was excruciating for Joey. Lacie said nothing, just staring at him. It was hard to know what was going on in her mind. She’d never been the sort to wear her heart on her sleeve. Finally, Lacie spoke.

“I accept your apology.” She said. “But I’m not going to forgive you.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to.”

“Good.” Lacie turned away from him, heading to put the tin in a cupboard. “Thank you for coming to apologize.”

“You’re welcome.” Joey put his list away, breathing an internal sigh of relief. “I should probably be going now. Esther’s probably wondering why I’ve been in here so long.”

“Safe travels.” Bertram escorted him out.

Joey smiled to himself as he made his way back to Esther’s car. He’d been terrified he’d get cursed out, yelled at. That they would throw things at him. Gods knew he deserved it. But they hadn’t. They hadn’t forgiven him, but they’d accepted his apology.

“You were in there for a long time,” Esther said as he got back in. “Did everything go alright?”

“It did.” Joey nodded, feeling the tears starting to well up. “It went really well.” 

Esther smiled gently, leaning over to hug him. “I’m proud of you, Jojo. You’re doing a good thing.”

Joey sniffled loudly, burying his face in his sister’s chest. The guilt wasn’t ever going to go away, he was sure of that, but it felt good to have his apologies accepted. He was making progress. They all were. 


	3. Stuck

Today is Stuck. 

I was a little _stuck_ on what to do for this. ~~See what I did there?~~ Ended up going with just stuck in the studio.

* * *

When she’d first awoken in the studio, she’d tried to run. She remembered nothing, yet she knew she had to get out of there. She stumbled to her feet, falling over more than once due to the weakness of her legs. She felt like a newborn deer, unable to control her limbs. 

“Come on come on!” She muttered as she forced herself back up, leaning heavily against the wall. Her legs still shook, threatening to give out at any moment. But she managed to get herself moving. For some reason, the inky trail she left on the wall as she limped along left her with a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“Just have to keep going.” She told herself. “One foot in front of another.” The sound of her voice made her feel better. 

As she moved, she took stock of what she could see. First of all, there was ink everywhere. It dripped from the ceiling, pooled on the floor, smeared the walls. There were handprints of ink, messages written in ink. Even she herself seemed to be covered in ink. Or was she…made of ink?

“No! That’s stupid.” She laughed. The sound was weak and disingenuous. It sounded like she was pretending to laugh, or at the very least trying to convince herself she found the idea funny. She shook her head and kept going. What else could she see? 

There were pipes on the ceiling. Ink flowed through them. They had to feed into something. A machine, probably. She could hear the faint sound of machinery. Where was it coming from? It never seemed to get any louder or softer, no matter how far she walked. There were barrels strewn about, which didn’t give her any clues as to where she could be. The places she could think of that had barrels didn’t resemble the place she found herself in. The posters provided a lead, though.

“Bendy in Sheep Songs, presented in Sillyvision.” She paused to look at one of the posters. “Featuring Boris the Wolf.” She’d seen those posters plastered in the hallways, along with other ones for other shorts like Little Devil Darlin’ and The Dancing Demon. All starring Bendy. Why did that little demon’s face make her stomach turn?

“I guess I’m in a cartoon studio.” She said. “Explains all the ink. It’s definitely seen better days.” She felt better knowing where she was. Even if she didn’t know **who** she was, she knew **where** she was. 

Feeling stronger now, she pushed off of the wall, trying to walk on her own. To her delight, she managed to do it. Her legs didn’t give out, although she wobbled a little. She felt a rush of pride as she walked down the hallway. The moment didn’t last long, though. She only got a few feet before something jumped out of an ink puddle and toward her. She shrieked, stumbling back and falling onto her butt. The creature let out a bone-chilling groan, oozing toward her. It resembled the upper half of a human, but without any features safe for a gaping mouth and two empty sockets where the eyes should be. And it was completely made of ink.

“Get away from me!” She screamed, scooting back. The creature moaned again, dragging itself toward her. She looked frantically around for some kind of weapon, some way to defend herself from whatever this thing was. Her hand found a broken board and she quickly swung it at the creature. The creature seemed unperturbed by it. 

“Nonononono!” She kept desperately swinging the board. “Die! Just die!” She kept swinging until the creature was nothing but a puddle of ink once more. She was left heaving and on the verge of tears.

“I have to get out of here.” She dropped the board and bolted. She had to get out of this place. She had to leave. 

She ran through the labyrinthine corridors, each one looking just the same as the other. Each identical hallway made her feel as though she was inching closer and closer to the brink of madness. There was no way cartoon studios were supposed to look like this! She almost cried out of relief when she found a ladder up against a wall. It led upward, probably to a trap door. 

“Oh, thank God.” She scrambled up as quickly as she could, almost slipping a few times because of haste. 

She came out in what looked like a break room. She paid no mind to the book on the table nor the cutout propped against the wall. There had to be a way out through here, she was sure of it. She left the break room, following the hallway out into what she assumed to be an entry hall. **_Joey Drew Studios_** was written on a sign set over three film reels. She passed it by as quickly as she could. The exit was there! Right in front of her! She ran to the door, turning the knob and pulling.

But it didn’t move. 

“What?” She frowned, pulling harder. The door still didn’t budge.

“Why isn’t it moving?!” She tugged frantically on the door. She’d found the exit! Why couldn’t she open it?!

“Please. Please let me out.” She begged, starting to sob. To her horror, her tears were black.

She didn’t know how long she sat there, sobbing and pulling futilely at the door. Eventually, she got back up, wiped away her tears, and went back into the depths of the studio. It took a long time for it to finally set in that she was trapped in this place. For a bit, she kept herself busy scavenging for food and fighting the ink creatures. If she kept busy she wouldn’t have to think about her situation. Everything would be fine if she just kept going. 

The realization truly hit her when she was in the Music Department, searching for some soup. A Searcher had popped out, startling her and sending her back and into the flooded stairwell.

Her mind fractured. 

So many voices. 

So many memories.

##  **_-don’t be seein’ what the big deal is._ **

**_-I won’t be doing any more repair jobs for Mister Joey Drew._ **

##  **_I’m outta here!_ **

**_Alice and I, we’re going places._ **

##  **_These stupid cartoon songs don’t write themselves, you know._ **

**_-I sees everything._ **

##  **_I love the quiet-_ **

Which was she? Was she even a she? They’d been…What had they been doing? Had they been doing anything at all? One of these pieces had to be them. 

_Pieces of your mind, swimming like fish in a bowl._

She did eventually drag herself free. She was back at square one, essentially. No memories. No identity. She tried to escape again, only to be met with the same results. The door wouldn’t open. She was trapped. The second time, though, she learned. The experience felt familiar enough that she guessed she’d been through it once before. 

“I can’t go back there.” She said to herself, looking down at her hands. She wasn’t human. She understood this now. Taking a deep breath, she stood up. She had to get to the bottom of this. If she was going to be trapped, she was going to figure out _**why**_ she was trapped. She set back into the studio, intent upon discovering the source of her imprisonment. 

Not long after that, she would meet Tom. 


	4. Light

Today is Light. So I went with figurative light.

* * *

Lacie had been told when she was a little girl that someday she would find a man who would complete her. She thought that was bullshit, and she’d said so. It was stupid to think that she was incomplete and needed a man to give her life purpose. Her mother had scolded her for being so impudent, telling her that no man would want to marry a girl like her. That was just fine with Lacie. She’d gone to stay with Norman’s family after that. 

Thankfully, she was only related to him by marriage, so she didn’t have to see her blood family ever again. The Polks already didn’t want to talk to her side of the family because of their reaction to the marriage between Norman’s parents. She liked living with Norman and his family. There was no pressure to conform to any sort of role with them. She was allowed to be herself, so long as she didn’t get into trouble.

“What do you want to do when you’re older, Lacie?” Norman’s mother, Grace, often asked her. “What would bring light to your life?” They talked often of that, of bringing light to one’s life. Lacie liked the saying. She wanted to be the one to give meaning to her life. She wanted to find her light.

“I want to work with machines,” Lacie answered the same every time. She liked machines, liked taking them apart and putting them back together. She liked fixing things. She was good at it too. She’d managed to fix the clock in the living room that had been damaged in an earthquake years before. She was certain she could find some sort of job with her skills. 

She’d met Bertram when they’d both been in their 30′s. Lacie had built up a bit of a reputation as someone who could fix almost anything. If you had a mechanical problem that Benton woman would be able to solve it. One of Bertram’s mechanics had just quit and Lacie herself was between jobs, so she’d applied for the position. He’d gotten back to her surprisingly quickly, asking her to come and demonstrate her skills. Lacie had just sort of shrugged and agreed. 

The location Bertram had insisted she meet him was one of his parks. It was still under construction, the rides only half-finished, looming like the skeletons of slain giants. She wandered through the unfinished park, toolbox at her side. She found Bertram by following the sound of the banging and swearing. He was halfway inside the main column of a carousel, cursing and muttering to himself. 

“Having trouble?” She asked. There was a loud curse as Bertram banged his head on the panel in his attempt to quickly get out of the column.

“You okay?” She took a step toward him. Also in her toolbox was a first aid kit. You never knew what would happen on a job.

“Yes yes, I’m fine.” He waved one hand while the other rubbed his head. “I take it you are Miss Benton?” 

He wasn’t at all what Lacie had been expecting from the great Bertram Piedmont. She’d looked up articles about him before coming, especially after hearing his voice on the phone. In the pictures she’d seen, he was always wearing a suit with a tailcoat and a top hat, everything perfect and immaculate. She’d thought he’d be some kind of stuck-up prick who never dared to get his hands dirty. At the moment, he was wearing jeans, an undershirt, and workboots and was covered in oil and grease. So definitely someone who was alright with getting his hands dirty.

“That’s me.” She nodded. “You said he wanted me to ‘demonstrate my skills’?” She made air quotes with her free hand, trying very hard not to snort in derision. 

“Yes.” He gestured for her to come over. She shrugged and did. 

“I’ve been having problems with a few of the internal mechanisms.” He explained, pointing to some of the components within the main column. “I cannot for the life of me figure out what’s wrong.”

“What isn’t working?” Lacie set down her toolbox, pulling out a flashlight and taking a closer look. 

“Well, it either won’t turn or it will get stuck,” Bertram explained, pulling out a rag from his pocket and wiping his hands. 

“Mm.” Lacie nodded, already engrossed in the internal components. 

It took her about an hour to find the problem and fix it. Once she had, the carousel was up and running, the tinny music echoing throughout the park. She could only imagine kids would go crazy for it once the park was open. 

“How was that?” Lacie asked, stepping off the carousel. 

“I must say, I’m impressed,” Bertram said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I had heard you were good with machines, but I hadn’t thought you were quite this good.” He turned to her. “How soon can you start?”

Lacie just watched him for a moment before smiling back. “How soon will you let me?”

Bertram turned out to be a good boss. He knew how to run a business, that was for sure. Some of the employees might have called him a hardass and a prick behind his back, but they had good wages and their concerns were taken seriously. He was a better boss than Joey Drew ever turned out to be. He had some ego problems at times, that was true, but he wasn’t egotistical enough to hurt those who worked under him.

While working with him, Lacie found herself rather endeared by Bertram. In her eyes, he was a bit of a wide-eyed idealist, but he felt so incredibly strongly about his work. It was hard not to get caught up in his enthusiasm for what he did. What she found especially cute was the way he interacted with children. Most people who worked with Bertram wouldn’t think he’d be at all good with kids, but Lacie knew better. He was at his happiest when seeing people enjoy his creations. 

“Why do you take all this so seriously?” Lacie had asked him once. “They’re just theme parks, aren’t they?” By that point, they’d gotten rather close. Bertram valued Lacie’s input and expertise. They certainly weren’t in any kind of romantic relationship, but they still considered each other incredibly important. They were partners. 

Bertram leaned back in his chair, folding his hands on his desk. He was silent for a long time, his brow furrowed ever so slightly in thought. 

“They’re not **just** theme parks.” He finally said. “For children, they’re places of wonder and magic. Hell, they might even be places of wonder and magic for adults as well. The point is, they mean something to the people who visit them. These parks are my legacy. And I want my legacy to be something wonderful.” 

Lacie stared at him for a minute, then started to laugh. Bertram’s cheeks immediately turned pink. 

“What? Why are you laughing?!” He demanded. 

“You’re really something, Bertie.” She chuckled. 

“What on Earth is that supposed to mean?” Bertram went even redder. 

“It means you’re a good guy,” Lacie said, patting his shoulder. “The kind of guy I’m glad I’m working for.”

“Oh, um, thank you.” 

“Anyway, the plans for the park in Chicago.”

“Ah! Yes!” Bertram lit up, opening a drawer in his desk to pull out the plans. Lacie took a seat beside him.

This wasn’t the path she’d envisioned taking in life, but she was satisfied with where she was. Machines brought light to her life. She was happy being able to work with them. And she liked Bertram. His enthusiasm, his belief in the power of dreams, his dedication to his work. She respected him both as a person and an employer, and it was clear that he respected her as well. They liked being around one another. They were partners, together against the world. Lacie didn’t particularly feel as though he **completed** her, but it did feel like they were two links of a stronger chain.

When she was around Bertram, she almost felt inclined to believe in dreams. He brought light to the world and he brought light to her. He **was** light, really. He was the face of the company, the man in the spotlight. Lacie was content to work in the shadows, making his dreams run. Every good sun needed a moon to reflect their light. She would be his moon. She would follow him anywhere. Someone needed to make sure he didn’t burn himself out.


	5. Dark

Today is Dark

This might be a little rough. ^^” I had an idea and ran with it, but I’m not sure it turned out great. 

* * *

**_Where was Wally?_ **

**_He needed to find Wally._ **

**_Wally was afraid of the dark!_ **

**_He couldn’t let him be on his own like this!_ **

When Shawn had woken up, it had been in darkness. He didn’t know where he was or what had happened. He wracked his mind, trying to remember what he’d been doing before. He’d been painting the Bendy toys and then…Someone…Someone had called for him. Someone had asked to see him. Ugh! Why couldn’t he remember?! He stumbled to his feet, looking frantically around. All he could see was darkness. He seemed to be alone. 

~~Where were Barley and Edgar? He never went anywhere without them.~~

“Wally. I gotta find Wally!” He muttered to himself. Wally had been with him, he remembered that now. Wally had been sitting with him while he’d been painting the toys. It had been late. Shawn had been working overtime and Wally had stayed behind to keep him company until he was done.

“I swear, if you did something to him, Drew!” Shawn growled, setting off into the darkness. Joey had to be behind this somehow. He was always the culprit when something weird happened at the studio. He had to be responsible. 

~~Little troublemaker was always behind shenanigans like this. It was a wonder anyone was still friends with that devil.~~

Shawn’s heart pounded in his ears as he walked. Something was wrong here, he just knew it. The sound of his footfalls was strange, like he was stepping in puddles. But his feet didn’t feel wet. All his thoughts felt jumbled. He had to focus in order to be able to string a coherent thought together. The only thing that seemed to stick was Wally. He had to find Wally. Wally was afraid of the dark.

He’d found that out the first night Wally had ever spent at his house. There had been a terrible storm raging so the power had gone out. Wally had shrieked and immediately latched himself onto Shawn’s arm. He’d be lying if he said it hadn’t been really cute. Wally had sounded like a small animal when he’d screamed. Wally was just so cute in general. He was so small and squishy and like a little teddy bear. His curly hair, his big eyes, his little freckles. 

~~His goofy smile and floppy ears. The way his tail wagged when you scratched just the right spot behind his ears. He was adorable. That dope would do anything for a sandwich too.~~

No! He was getting distracted! He had to _find_ Wally. He shook his head, trying to clear the fog from his mind. He didn’t understand why he was finding it so hard to think. His head was starting to hurt from the effort of trying to keep himself together. 

“You lost, kid?” He stumbled at the sudden voice.

“Wha-? Who said that?!” He demanded, spinning around. To his surprise, he found a cartoon character leaning against thin air and smoking a pipe. Not just any cartoon character either, but Charley from the Butcher Gang.

“The fuck?”

~~That’s not right. Isn’t that me?~~

“Hey, language.” Charley blew some smoke out at him. “This is a kid’s cartoon.”

“I’m a grown man! I’m allowed to swear!” Shawn yelled. “The fuck are you doing here?! You’re a cartoon!”

“Way to state the obvious, kid.” Charley snorted. 

“I’m not a kid! Answer my question!”

Charley watched him, his expression one of bored indifference. He blew out a few smoke rings.

“Do you know where we are, kid?” He asked, completely glossing over Shawn’s displeasure about the nickname. There was a seriousness to his expression that Shawn hadn’t really expected a cartoon character to be able to convey.

“Of course I don’t!” Shawn snapped, although his voice faltered a bit. Why did he have such a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach? What had Joey done this time?

~~It was so dark. Why was he alone in the dark like this? He needed his gang. They had to be going crazy without him.~~

“Do you **want** to know?” Charley watched him, chewing on his pipe. Shawn opened his mouth to answer but found the words catching in his throat. He wanted to know what was going on…didn’t he? It couldn’t be that bad, right? …Right?

“What’s….What’s going on?” Shawn whispered. From the moment he’d woken up here, he’d felt like something was wrong. There had to be a reason for that. 

~~A voice was calling his name. He needed to go toward it. His gang needed him. He couldn’t stay in this darkness forever. A light appeared above him in the blackness.~~

“Nothing good,” Charley replied as everything around Shawn began to turn white. “Not that it matters what I’m gonna say.”

“No! Tell me!” Shawn pleaded. “I have to know where Wally is! I have to know what’s going on!”

“You’ll see soon enough,” Charley said before everything disappeared. 

**_He surfaced gasping for breath. He gulped down air like a dying man. His mouth was so dry. Why was it so dry? He tried to close it but found he couldn’t. It gaped open as he continued to suck down air._ **

**_“Oh, for the love of- Another dud?” A man’s voice came from his left. He swung his head in that direction. He recognized that voice. Why did he recognize that voice? A man stood beside him. It was hard to properly make out the man’s features, as the room was poorly lit and his eyesight was strangely blurry.  
_ **

**_“Looks like you’re going in with the others.” The man picked him up by the scruff of his neck, dragging him out and into a dark hallway. He tried to get away, kicking and scratching as best he could. One of his legs was missing.  
_ **

**_“In you go.” The man said before throwing him into what felt like a cage. There were others in the cage. But he didn’t care.  
_ **

**_“Come along, Boris.” The man said to a figure at his side. “They’re not worth our time.” For the briefest moment, before the wolf turned and left, he thought he saw a small man with curly hair._ **

**_“Wally!” He croaked out the name, slamming into the bars and flailing wildly. But it was too late. They were both gone. The door shut and it was dark again. It was always dark._ **


	6. Dress Up

Today is Dress Up. 

[@a-rae-of-sunshine](https://tmblr.co/mVCygfJ6CjUgWH2MDIzrCog) updated the Happily Ever After AU and I’m gonna write about it because I cried at the new [update](https://a-rae-of-sunshine.tumblr.com/post/186073802699/he-woke-up-slowly-not-opening-his-eyes-but-coming)!

* * *

Now that Tom was human again, or at least _looked_ human, he needed clothes. Henry had given him a bathrobe to wear for the moment, but they still needed to find something more…permanent. Tom couldn’t very well walk around naked all the time. There was a child in the house! Okay, maybe Bendy wasn’t **actually** a child, but still. At the moment, they were having a bit of a fashion show. Well, fashion show might not have been the best word. Henry had brought down a few boxes of clothes that had probably once been Tom’s and was having him try them on. Tom was a little nervous, but he wasn’t about to show it. 

Most of his nervousness came from the prospect of the clothes not fitting. He knew this reaction was silly. After all, even though he looked human again, his body wasn’t the same as it had been when he’d been human. But these clothes were still a link to his past, a link to the person he’d once been. He knew he wasn’t the same man he’d been before. He knew that. So why did the idea of the clothes not fitting fill him with such dread?

“It’ll be fine,” Allison whispered to him, squeezing his hand in reassurance. Tom relaxed at her touch, letting out an imperceptible sigh of relief. Her words banished his fears and anxieties. He wasn’t a wolf anymore, he told himself. Even if the clothes didn’t fit, it didn’t mean he wasn’t Thomas Connor. 

“Afterwards, I’d love to braid your hair.” She continued, reaching up with her free hand to play with the ends of his hair. “You wouldn’t want it getting in your eyes.” He nodded, smiling softly at her. He knew he probably looked a little stupid, staring at her with such a goofy grin on his face. But he couldn’t stop smiling. He might have still been a little exhausted from the whole process, but the excitement remained in his chest, bubbling up whenever he looked down and saw a human hand instead of a toon one. 

Meanwhile, Bendy was digging through the boxes to see what kind of clothes Tom had. He’d never been allowed to look inside these boxes before. They’d been hidden away in the attic, a banished reminder of the life Tom had once had. To Bendy, it had been some kind of special secret. Like buried treasure. But looking at it now…It was honestly kind of boring. Tom’s taste in clothing left something to be desired. It was mostly button-ups and overalls, with few suits mixed in. 

“Is this everything?” Bendy asked after getting Henry’s attention. 

“I mean, there are other boxes,” Henry said. “But I thought this would make a good start. Why?” 

Bendy looked at the box, then back at Henry. “They’re so boring.”

Henry stared at him for a moment before starting to laugh.

“When did you become such a fashion expert, bud?” He asked, patting Bendy’s head. Bendy huffed and folded his arms. Well, excuse him for wanting Tom to wear something fun after having to wear overalls for 30 years. He could wear **anything** now! Why would he want to go back to _overalls_? From the couch, Tom snorted. Bendy stuck his tongue out at him. Tom rolled his eyes, but a smile tugged on the corners of his lips. Internally, Bendy was glad. Tom may have externally changed, but he was still the same Tom.

“Let’s just see what fits him right now, okay?” Henry went back to looking through the boxes. Bendy huffed again but did as Henry asked. 

They both picked a few starting outfits for Tom to try on. Henry’s were mundane, mostly consisting of button-up shirts and a few varieties of pants. Bendy’s choices were…interesting. They were certainly what one would expect from a child. Not necessarily outfits an adult would think would go together. Tom looked at Bendy’s outfits and then at the demon. His expression was incredulous. 

“What’s wrong with them?” Bendy asked. Tom held up one of the outfits, which happened to be a dress. He held it up in front of himself, displaying that it was very clearly too small for him. He then pointed at Allison.

“I’m guessing that’s mine.” Allison took it from him, turning it over in her hands. It was a light blue sundress with yellow flowers printed across the fabric. Tom tapped her leg to get her attention, then pointed at her and made a gesture around his head. He’d taken his pad off in preparation for trying the clothes on, so he couldn’t exactly write out his thoughts. Allison frowned slightly, tilting her head to the side. Tom sighed softly, thinking for a moment before making a motion of putting something on his head. 

“Oh! You think it would look good with the hat Bendy gave me!” Allison said, clapping her hands together. Tom nodded. 

“Well, I’ll have to wear it the next time we go to town.” She folded the dress in her lap. Tom’s heart skipped a beat at that. _The next time **we** go into town_. He was included in that now. He could go into town with his wife again.

“There’s a lot I want to show you,” Allison added with a small gleeful smile. Had he still looked like Boris, Tom’s heart might have literally been pounding out of his chest the same way it had when Allison had kissed him under the mistletoe. 

“But you can’t go into town naked.” Henry cleared his throat awkwardly. “So let’s see what fits.” Tom begrudgingly nodded, turning his attention back to the clothes. He chose one of the outfits Henry had picked and started trying to get it on.

It proved more difficult than he’d anticipated, given that he was unused to dressing with only one functioning arm. He ended up falling over more than once trying to get the pants on. Perhaps the only good thing about being a Boris was that he’d never had to put on pants when he’d been short an arm. Bendy was trying very hard not to laugh as Tom’s frustration grew. One admonishing look from Henry silenced him, though.

“Here, let me help you.” Allison got up from the couch. Henry and Bendy moved out of the way, allowing her to kneel beside him and help him get dressed. Tom’s frustration lessened as Allison’s hands found his, helping where his absent left hand could not. Both Henry and Bendy suddenly felt as though they were intruding on a private moment.

“Let’s give them some time alone, okay?” Henry suggested to Bendy, picking up the demon. Bendy nodded, smiling as he watched the two of them together. Neither Allison nor Tom even noticed they’d departed.

“Maybe we can get you a new arm in town,” Allison said as she buttoned up his shirt. “The kind of prosthetics they have are amazing. I’m sure we can find one to fit you.” Tom nodded vaguely, lost in the moment. It had been so long since he’d been this close to her in a body he was comfortable with. 

“There we go.” She pulled away, patting his chest. She’d finished buttoning the shirt. He now had both pants and a shirt on. By some miracle, they still fit. Henry had got the body type right. 

“Don’t you look handsome?” Allison laughed. She had a look of almost wistful longing as she looked him over. Tom wanted to kiss her so badly. Was it too soon? Their relationship still wasn’t where it had been before. Before he could decide, Allison started looking through the boxes. 

“I wonder if you have a suit in here.” She said. “I’d love to see you all dressed up in a tuxedo. I’m sure you’ll cut a rather dashing figure.” He shrugged. He’d never been one for formal wear. 

“Oh.” She paused and looked sheepishly back at him. “I hope you don’t mind if I choose a few outfits for you.” He shook his head, gesturing to the box and leaning back. She lit up, starting to toss out articles of clothing that interested her. Tom didn’t mind playing dress-up doll for her. As long as she smiled. 


	7. Monster

Today is Monster. I was going to do Norman, but I decided to go with our favorite little devil darling.

* * *

**_He wasn’t a monster._ **

**_At least…he wasn’t supposed to be._ **

He knew who he was supposed to be. He was Bendy the Dancing Demon, everyone’s favorite little devil darling! He couldn’t explain how he knew this. He just did. Maybe he didn’t look the way he usually did, but he was still Bendy. Although, the man in the bowtie didn’t seem to think so. 

“It’s an abomination!” He heard the man in the bowtie yelling. 

“I don’t know what you want me to do.” The gruff man, Tom, replied. The man in the bowtie and Tom were always yelling at each other when the man in the bowtie visited Tom’s office. Bendy sat with his back against Tom’s desk, staring at the wall. He never liked when the man in the bowtie visited. Tom told him to hide when that happened. 

“You promised me it’d be perfect!” The man in the bowtie continued. Bendy watched the shadows on the wall. The man in the bowtie was gesturing wildly. Bendy knew who he was, but he preferred not to think of his name. It contrasted wildly with the image the man projected to the world. 

“I didn’t know you wanted them to _live_ , Drew.” Tom sighed exasperatedly. Bendy was sure he was pinching the bridge of his nose. He always did that. “I thought you just wanted life-sized figures! If you want them to live, they need souls or something.” He waved a hand in a vague gesture. 

“Well then, you better find some souls. After all, I own thousands of them.” Bendy could practically picture the demented smile on Joey Drew’s face. He hugged his knees. He knew what Joey Drew was supposed to be, what Joey Drew wanted the world to see. But he also knew what Joey Drew actually was. 

“What do you want me to do? Kill some people?” Tom asked. 

“What else would you do?” Joey laughed. It was an unpleasant sound. In any other context, Joey had a wonderful laugh. That didn’t apply here. Here…It just sounded demented. 

“I’m not killing anyone for you, Drew,” Tom growled. Bendy watched his shadow take a step toward Joey’s. “You’re insane.”

“You know…it would be a terrible shame if I had to involve Miss Pendle in all that.” Joey’s voice was sickly sweet. Bendy wondered if his voice had ever sounded like that. Tom had mentioned Joey sometimes did the voice for Bendy in the cartoons. Bendy hugged his knees tighter, unable to tear his gaze away from the shadows on the wall. The shoulders of Tom’s shadow slumped. Joey seemed to take that as a sign of victory, his shadow growing smaller as he walked away. 

Tom looked exhausted when he finally re-entered the office. He always looked exhausted nowadays. The dark circles under his eyes never seemed to go away and the wrinkles on his face were even more prominent. Bendy made a questioning noise, reaching for Tom’s hand. 

“I’m fine, bud.” Tom gently brushed Bendy’s hand aside. “Don’t worry.” Bendy made a sad noise but didn’t try to touch Tom again. 

“You want to draw?” Tom asked, sitting down at his desk. Bendy perked up a little. Sometimes, if he was really good, Tom gave him a sketchpad to draw with. It was hard to draw when he had two different shaped hands, but Bendy made do. 

“Here you go, bud.” Tom handed him the sketchpad and pencil. “Tell me if you need to sharpen the pencil.” Bendy nodded excitedly, sitting back down and starting to doodle. His favorite things to draw were himself, Boris and Alice, Tom, and the shadowy man in his memory that Tom had told him was his creator, Henry.

Bendy liked Tom. Tom took care of him. Well, “care” might not have been the best word. Bendy didn’t need to eat, drink, or sleep so most of the “care” Tom provided was just being around Bendy. Bendy liked the company, even if it was clear Tom wasn’t entirely comfortable around him. It wasn’t like he had any other company. He wasn’t allowed outside of Tom’s office. At least Tom was nice to him, unlike Joey. The names Joey called him made Bendy want to cry.

Bendy wasn’t a monster. He may have _looked_ like one, but he wasn’t. Real monsters didn’t have to look awful to be monsters. Joey Drew was proof enough of that. Bendy might not have been allowed out of Tom’s office, but Tom told him things and he could hear things going on outside. He heard what Joey asked Tom to do, heard Joey berate his workers. It was obvious Joey didn’t care about anyone but himself. 

The story that Bendy always remembered was the one Tom had told him about his creator, Henry Stein. It was mostly secondhand since Tom had never met Henry himself, but he knew the basic details. Henry had started the studio with Joey. He’d been the one to create the characters and do all the hard work. And when he’d gotten tired of being taken advantage of, Joey had taken the characters. Bendy wanted to meet Henry someday. Henry was his real father, not Joey. Joey could pretend all he liked, but Bendy knew what he really was.

Bendy looked back up at Tom, who was staring at the plans on his desk. His expression was grim, determined. Bendy scooted over, patting Tom’s arm with his hand. The toon one, not the human-looking one. He thought the glove made it more comforting. 

“Thanks, bud.” Tom smiled slightly, his expression softening at Bendy’s touch. Bendy gave him a big grin. Even if Joey made Tom do bad things, Tom was never going to be a monster. Not like Joey. Never like Joey. 


	8. Peace

Today is Peace. Gods know the studio inhabitants deserve some of this.

* * *

Norman sat back in his rocking chair, enjoying the feeling of the sun on his skin. It had been so long since he’d been in the sunlight. He’d forgotten how much he’d missed it. His knees ached a bit, which was to be expected since he’d spent most of yesterday weeding. Both Linda and Henry had advised against doing so given he was still recovering from what had been done to him at the studio, but he’d insisted. He’d needed to feel the dirt under his fingernails, the sun at his back. He’d needed to feel human. He’d never been happier to be in pain in his life.

“Mind if I join you?” Norman glanced over to see who was addressing him.

“Ah, Jack.” He smiled at the former lyricist. “I wouldn’t mind the company.”

“Thanks.” Jack settled in one of the other chairs set out in the Stein’s back porch.

“So, are you feeling okay?” Jack asked. Norman could tell Jack was trying very hard not to look concerned, which was honestly kind of funny. Especially since Wally had been the one who’d fallen off the roof the other day.

“I’m fine.” Norman stifled a laugh. “I still don’t get why you were all so worried about me doing some weeding. I’ve been through worse.”

“Well, you’re _old_ ,” Jack said. “And…um…” He trailed off, his gaze flicking to the scars still visible on Norman’s dark skin. Henry had taken him to a doctor to make sure the old projectionist was alright after everything that had happened, and while the doctor had given him a clean bill of healthy, they all still worried. What had happened to Norman was different than what had happened to the rest of them.

“I appreciate the concern, son.” Norman reached over to pat Jack’s shoulder. “But I’m fine, really.”

“Okay.” Jack laughed nervously. He always seemed nervous nowadays. Norman decided to change the subject. 

“You have any plans for the weekend?” He asked. “It’s the 4th and all that.”

“Oh! Yeah!” Immediately, Jack lit up. “Me, Sammy, Susie, Shawn, and Wally are going to Coney Island!”

“Coney Island, huh?” Norman leaned back in his chair. “Sounds like fun.”

“It should be.” Jack nodded. He had a huge grin on his face, quieting some of Norman’s fears for the younger man. “It was Sammy’s idea, really, but we’re all looking forward to it.”

“It’s a good thing Wally didn’t break anything when he fell off the roof.” Norman chuckled. “That’d probably put a damper on the outing.”

“Yeah, it probably would.” Jack’s smile faltered a bit. Wally’s boundless positivity had taken a hit after what they’d experienced in the studio. He tried to be the happy person every remembered, but things got to him more than they once had.

“I hope you all have a good time,” Norman said, his expression softening. “You kids deserve to have a little fun.”

“Yeah.” Jack took his hat off, beginning to play with it. It was old, dirty, developing a few holes, and constantly smelled like ink. Henry had offered to buy him a new hat when they’d gotten out. But Jack hadn’t been willing to part with this one.

“You are looking forward to it, aren’t you?” Norman nudged him. “You’re looking awfully serious all of a sudden.”

“I am! I definitely am!” Jack said quickly. “I was just…thinking. About…things…” His lips were set in a thin line as he toyed with the brim of his hat. 

“About the studio?”

Jack winced and nodded. 

Norman smiled wearily. “We’re out. We’re okay.”

“Okay…” Jack took a deep breath, nodding to himself. He put his hat back on. “So, how **was** the weeding? I don’t know much about gardening myself.”

“It went better than I expected,” Norman said. “Linda and Henry take pretty good care of their garden.”

“ **I** take care of the garden.” Linda appeared from the back door with a tray of tea. “Henry’s allergic to sunlight.”

“I am not!” Henry’s voice came from further in the house.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Linda said with a mischevious grin. “Now, do either of you want some tea?”

“I would love some tea.” Norman stifled a laugh as he took a cup. Jack had taken his hat off again and was covering his face with it as he shook with barely suppressed laughter. 

“Do you want any honey with it?” Linda asked.

“This is fine, thank you.”

“What about you, Jack?” Linda turned her attention to the lyricist. “Can I get you anything?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” Jack managed to collect himself a bit. 

“Well, tell me if you need anything.” Linda gave him a wink.

“I am **not** allergic to sunlight,” Henry appeared at the back door. It looked like he’d been drawing, judging from the pencil behind his ear and the ink on his fingers. 

“I certainly thought you were, with all the time you spend inside drawing.” Linda smiled innocently at him. “Not to mention all the times you’ve burned because you forgot to wear sunscreen.” Henry grumbled something, folding his arms. 

“I love you~” Linda kissed his cheek. 

“I love you too.” He mumbled. “But I’m still mad!”

“Of course, dear.”

Norman watched them, an ache developing in his heart. Seeing them reminded him of himself and his Mary. He still missed her. But he couldn’t dwell on the past forever. The horrors of the studio were behind them and they could finally find peace. He looked back at the garden, full of flowers and birds and bathed in sunlight. He had missed this. 


	9. Favorite Ship/Beach Day

Today is fave ship. Which was a little hard to decide. ^^” The alternative was beach day, so I’m gonna cram a bunch of my favorite ships in here

* * *

“I still don’t see why I have to do this.”

“It’s fun, Sammy. You do remember what fun is, don’t you?”

Sammy groaned, slumping back in his seat. He, Susie, Wally, Shawn, Allison, and Tom were crammed in a van, on their way to spend a few days at the beach. Allison’s family had a lake house on the shore of Lake Ontario, so she’d invited them all to join her and Tom there for the weekend. Tom was the only one who’d had a van big enough, so they were in his car and he was the one driving. He didn’t trust anyone beside Allison to drive and Allison was currently sleeping since she’d had a late night recording. 

“Sitting in the sand all day isn’t exactly my idea of fun,” Sammy grumbled, folding his arms. 

“You can come swimming with us,” Wally said. “Water washes off sand, y’know.” To everyone’s surprise, Wally had been most excited about the prospect of swimming in the lake. None of them had really pegged him as the swimming type. 

“That is definitely true.” Shawn tried to stifle a snicker. “Water definitely does wash off sand.” Wally narrowed his eyes, sticking his tongue out at his boyfriend. Shawn responded by sweeping him into his arms and cooing about how cute he was.

“Such a cutie. My little sunshine teddy bear.”

“Shawn!” Wally whined, squirming around. “C’mon! You’re embarrassing me.”

“Oh! Yes!” Susie clapped her hands together, completely ignoring Shawn and Wally. “I’ve always wanted to go swimming with you, but you keep making excuses.”

“You know how to swim, right?” Tom asked, his gaze flicking to Sammy in the rearview mirror. 

“Wha-?! Of course I know how to swim!” Sammy sputtered, going bright red. Allison stirred in the passenger seat, prompting Tom to shoot Sammy a warning look.

“I **know** how to swim,” Sammy muttered.

“You’re protesting a helluva lot, though,” Shawn said with a mischevious grin. “Kinda makes you think of that Shakespeare quote.”

“The lady doth protest too much, methinks.” Susie put on a dramatic voice, one hand on her chest, before she devolved into giggles.

“You’re the worst. All of you.” Sammy hunched further in his seat, huffing indignantly.

“If it really bothers you, we can stop,” Wally said, his smile fading a bit.

“….It’s fine.” Sammy fixed his gaze on the window. “You don’t need to stop.” Susie lit up, hugging Sammy as best she could.

“You can pretend all you like, but you really are a softie~” She kissed his cheek. Sammy started sputtering again, desperately trying Tom snorted to himself, glancing at Allison in the passenger seat. He hadn’t been thrilled when Allison had suggested the others join them at the lake house, but it was fun to watch them interact. Outside of the pressures of the studio, they were actually rather pleasant to be around. 

It was another hour or so before they reached the lake house, during which time Allison woke up. She started chatting with Tom, making sure he wasn’t feeling left out. Tom wasn’t all that talkative, so it was hard to properly hold a conversation with him. So Allison mostly just talked about her day and how things were going at Archgate Films. Tom was more than happy with this. He could honestly listen to her talk for hours.

“Wait, _**you’re**_ voicing that new princess character?” Susie asked, scooting forward so she could join the conversation. “Congratulations!”

“Oh, um, thank you.” Allison smiled sheepishly. 

“I’m sure you’ll do wonderfully,” Susie said. There was a hint of shame in her expression and voice. Shame from the way she’d treated Allison at the studio. Noticing this, Sammy gently took her hand, drawing her back and into his arms. Susie offered no resistance, resting against his chest until they got to the beach. 

“We’re here,” Tom announced, parking the car.

“Wha-?” Shawn looked around blearily. He and Wally had fallen asleep during the last hour. Wally was still asleep, actually, drooling onto Shawn’s shoulder. Shawn was a little sad he’d fallen asleep as well. He liked watching Wally sleep. Not for any creepy reasons, he just thought Wally looked adorable when he was sleeping.

“Are we all staying in one cabin?” Susie asked as they all got out of the car. 

“We only really have one house, so yes,” Allison replied, going to the trunk to get out the luggage. “But there are separate bedrooms.”

“I can sleep on the floor if you want,” Wally popped his head out of the van. “I’ve done it before.” He’d lost his hat while he was sleeping, so his hair was sticking up at all angles. When he noticed it was gone, he disappeared back into the van to find it, only exiting when it was back on his head.

“We can **both** sleep on the floor,” Shawn said, snaking an arm around Wally’s shoulder. “I’m not letting you do that alone.”

“You’re not sleeping on the floor.” Tom gave them a look. “That’s bad for your back.” 

“I’m guessing you know that from experience,” Sammy said with a knowing nod. Tom avoided his gaze, shoving Sammy’s suitcase at him.

“We’ll pick bedrooms and then we can do some swimming.” Allison started down the path to the house. 

“I’m burying whoever falls asleep,” Wally whispered to Susie and Shawn as they followed her.

“Sammy and Tom will both kill you if you do that to them,” Susie whispered back, although her gleeful expression said that she would absolutely help him. Thankfully, Sammy and Tom were far enough away that they didn’t hear the plans of the little chaos gremlins. 

The lake house was a decent sized house a little off the beach. It had belonged to Allison’s great grandfather at one point and when she’d been young her family had gone to it nearly every year. That had eventually stopped, but the house was still in good condition. It looked a bit a cottage out of a fairytale, especially with the ivy growing up the sides. 

“Nice place,” Shawn remarked. 

“Thanks.” Allison pulled out her keys, sifting through a few before she finally found the right one. “Here we are.” She fitted it into the lock and opened the door. Wally was the first one in, his eyes wide as he took in his surroundings. 

“This place is huge!” He yelled, running around the living room.

“I mean, it’s not _that_ big,” Allison said, starting to step forward to stop him.

“Let him have this.” Shawn put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her back. He watched Wally with a tender, lovestruck smile. 

“Why is he like this?” Sammy rolled his eyes.

“Oh, come on.” Susie gently poked him. “Don’t you remember how excited you got when I snagged tickets to that Nutcracker performance?”

“You swore you would never mention that again.” Sammy hissed, his face going bright red. 

“But it was so cute!” Susie said. “You have such a wonderful smile!” Out of the corner of his eye, Sammy saw Allison and Tom exchange a soft smile and a quiet laugh. 

“You’re all awful.” He muttered. 

Once Wally stopped running around, they figured out who got which bedroom. Tom laid claim to the biggest bedroom because this house belonged to **his** wife. Allison just sighed and went with it, apologizing to everyone else. Wally and Shawn shrugged it off, claiming the room that had stars painted on the ceiling. Susie and Sammy chose the room that had a view of the lake. 

After putting their luggage away, they put on their swimsuits and headed out to have a little fun before it got dark. Sammy was tentative about getting in the water, especially after Wally and Shawn splashed him with some water, but Susie eventually coaxed him in.

“It’s so cold!” He yelped as soon as his feet touched the water. Immediately, he remembered the studio. Being stuck in that cold void, all alone. It was so cold. It was always so cold. 

“Lake water does tend to be cold.” Allison hid her smile behind her book. She and Tom weren’t getting in the water themselves. Allison was tired and Tom didn’t want to swim while Wally and Shawn were in the water. He just knew Wally would try and drag him under when he least expected it. 

“Don’t worry, I’m here for you,” Susie whispered, squeezing Sammy’s hand comfortingly. She knew that the cold reminded him of the ink at the studio. Sammy relaxed at her touch, his shoulders lowering. Susie smiled, rubbing her thumb over the skin of his hand. 

“Hey hey!” Wally’s voice drew their attention away from Sammy’s troubles. He’d found some plants in the water and had draped it over his head like a hat. 

“I’m a sea witch!” Wally proclaimed, making a nasty face. 

“I found sticks to make horns!” Shawn surfaced from the water with two pieces of driftwood. 

“They’re like little kids.” Tom sighed, although he was smiling. 

“They’re having fun.” Allison laughed. 

Shawn had decided he would be the sea witch’s minion. They were terrorizing the beautiful Princess Susie, whose only protection was her gallant knight, Sammy. Sammy initially resisted getting involved in their game, although he eventually relented. Allison’s heart felt warm as she watched the four of them utterly lose themselves in their game. They all looked so happy. Even Sammy was enjoying himself, although she wasn’t surprised. He was such a ham.

“Thank you for agreeing to let them come along.” She leaned over to kiss Tom’s cheek. “I think we all needed this.”

“We all probably did.” Tom turned his head to return the kiss. 

By the time darkness fell, they were all tired out. Tom had indeed fallen asleep and, predictably, Wally and Shawn had taken this opportunity to bury him. Tom was less than pleased by this when Allison woke him up, stomping inside to shower and get the sand off of himself. But they were all happy. It had been a good day.


	10. Laughing

Today is laughing, which means I’m definitely doing Wally. This ended up being kind of sad. 

* * *

Wally Franks wanted to make people laugh. It had been his goal ever since he’d been a little kid. He was one of the youngest in a big family that had often fallen on hard times, crafting a role for himself as the resident goofball. He didn’t care if people were laughing **at** him so long as they were laughing. If they were laughing, they weren’t thinking about whatever was making them sad. He didn’t want people to be upset or sad. It hurt to be upset and sad. And…Maybe…Maybe if he could make other people happy, he himself could be happy.

He’d had high hopes for working at Joey Drew Studios. He’d seen a few of the cartoons and thought they were a riot! He especially found himself laughing at the antics of Boris, who reminded him of himself a lot. His mother had remarked that he’d been just like that as a child. 

“If there was food, you were eatin’ it.” She’d said. 

In the beginning, working at the studio was everything he’d ever dreamed of. The other employees were nice and it was fun to make them all laugh. He especially liked Susie Campbell and Sammy Lawrence. It felt especially good when he managed to make Sammy laugh since Sammy was normally so stoic. 

“If you tell anyone about this, I will end you.” Sammy would always say after every successful attempt as he tried to hide his reddening face. Sammy seemed so ashamed of his laugh, but both Susie and Wally found it adorable. 

“Yessir!” Wally would reply with a goofy salute. Then he would leave, listening to Sammy’s quiet laughter as he closed the door. 

Wally liked making people laugh. He didn’t care that he was pretty much the laughing stock of the studio. He didn’t care that no one took him seriously. So long as people were laughing, they weren’t being upset. So he played up his clumsiness, he made sure he was always pratfalling or messing up seemingly simple actions. It made people laugh. It was okay. He was fine. He couldn’t be sad. He was fine. He was always fine. He just had to keep smiling. 

“Have you ever thought of becoming a comedian?” Susie asked him one day as he cleaned the area outside the recording booth. 

“I mean, I’ve thought about it. But it’s not like it’d happen.” He shrugged, but his grip on the mop got a bit tighter. “Who’d come watch a guy like me?”

“I’d come to watch you,” Susie said. “Sammy would too.”

“You don’t need to lie to make me feel better, Miss Susie.”

“I’m not lying!” Susie put her hands on her hips, her face screwed up in frustration. “Why do you think no one would pay to watch you?” Wally flinched a bit at her harsh tone.

“Well, I mean, look at me.” He gestured to himself. 

“I’m looking at you.” Susie nodded. Wally was confused. Why hadn’t she caught on yet? Didn’t she see how pathetic he looked?

“I mean, I’m not exactly leading man material, y’know?” He laughed weakly. “Not exactly tall, dark, or handsome.” He was short, pretty pale, kind of chubby, and had a face like a little cherub statue. Susie’s frown deepened and she put her hands on Wally’s shoulders.

“You are wonderful, and you deserve the world.” She said. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“This got kinda intense.” Wally laughed awkwardly. “But, uh, thanks. I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.” Susie smiled and hugged him. Wally didn’t resist. He really didn’t understand why Susie seemed to like him so much. But…at least someone believed in him. It felt good to be believed in.

As things at the studio got worse, he kept trying to make people laugh. His efforts grew less and less appreciated, though. More people started yelling at him, shooing him away. Joey especially seemed frustrated at him.

“We don’t have time for laughter right now, Mr. Franks.” The studio head said through gritted teeth. “There’s work to be done.”

“Right, um, of course, Mr. Drew.” Wally forced himself to smile, even as he felt his heart sinking. 

“Now get back to work.” Joey snapped.

“Yessir.” He mumbled before shuffling out.

He went downstairs to the music department, hoping to find someone who could cheer him up. He needed _someone_ to make him laugh. Unfortunately, he found someone **he** needed to make laugh. As he descended the stairs, he heard someone crying in the exit stairwell. 

“Hey? Someone here?” He asked, poking his head into the stairwell. Almost immediately, Susie tried to pretend she hadn’t been crying. 

“Miss Susie? What’s wrong?” He walked in. 

“N-Nothing’s wrong.” Susie smiled, but Wally could tell it was a mask and nothing more. 

“Hey now, you’re cryin’.” Wally sat down beside her on the step. “What’s goin’ on? You can tell me. I ain’t gonna judge.” Susie hesitated, sniffling loudly. 

“I got replaced.” She finally said. “Apparently Alice is going to be voiced by Allison now.”

“What?!” Wally made a big show out of his stunned reaction. “Joey thinks **she** can do a better job than you? That’s a load of hooey if I ever heard it!”

“I don’t know what I did wrong.” Her shoulders shook as she fought back another round of tears. 

“You didn’t do nothin’ wrong, Miss Susie,” Wally assured her. “Joey’s just bein’ an idiot, like usual. Did I tell ya about his weird tantrum last week?”

“What weird tantrum?” Susie paused, her tears forgotten momentarily.

“Oh man.” Wally grinned, breathing an internal sigh of relief. “He threw the worst tantrum last week when an intern brought him the ‘wrong’ kind of coffee. I could hear him yelling at her about it from all the way down the hall. I slipped her a ten when I saw her.”

“He’s such a baby.” Susie snorted. “What? Did she not put enough milk in?” 

“Something like that.” 

“He can’t handle anything bitter, I swear.” Susie rolled her eyes. “When he took me out to dinner I asked if he wanted to try my whiskey and, Lord, the look on his face when he took a sip.”

“How long was he coughing?”

“I don’t know. At least five minutes.” She snickered quietly. “He got so offended when I started laughing too.” Wally didn’t even need to keep talking anymore. Susie was lost in her rant against Joey. Wally relaxed a bit. At least Susie seemed to be feeling better. He couldn’t fix all the problems popping up, but at least he could make people laugh. He could always do that.


	11. Environment

Today is environment. Which was...hard. But then I saw [@randomwriteronline](https://tmblr.co/m0ZF7KZiT8k_kLHiQ3obKaw)‘s [entry](https://randomwriteronline.tumblr.com/post/186209431810/day-11-environment-the-organ-what-nothing-to-see) and I got...ideas

* * *

The organist at Joey Drew Studios was a remarkably unremarkable man. There was absolutely nothing about him that made him stand out, and he kept to himself to such an extent that his coworkers knew practically nothing about him. They didn’t even know his last name. Everyone thought of him as Johnny the organist and nothing more. He was average height, a bit on the thin side, and could have been anywhere from his early 20′s to his mid 30′s. He was a soft-spoken man who didn’t talk all that much, but he was more than happy to lend an ear if someone had a problem. He was a good listener, and people liked him a lot for it.

However, despite being rather well-liked, Johnny got overlooked quite a lot. Not figuratively, either. He literally got overlooked. He didn’t have much of a presence to speak of. It was easy to forget he was there, even when he was standing right in front of you. He just blended into the environment. If people weren’t paying attention, he registered as nothing more than a part of their surroundings. He didn’t mind. He was used to it. He didn’t mind being a part of the scenery. It meant he didn’t get dragged into any drama. It seemed like there was always _some_ kind of drama going on at the studio. Better to just be furniture, he decided.

The only time people ever truly paid attention was when he was playing the organ. When he played, everyone knew exactly why he’d been hired. The way his long fingers danced across the keys, his body swaying, his eyes closed as if he were communing with the music. A lot of people joked that he and his organ were basically the same being. There was certainly some truth to that. When Johnny played, it was almost as if he and the organ were one. 

.

**_There was an organ in the music department. It had seen better days, that was for sure. Spiderwebs fluttered around it and ink had rusted the pipes in some places. But it was still remarkably in tune. If one were to touch the keys, it would still play perfectly. But the beautiful notes were also followed by a pained groan. Johnny and his organ were one being, alright. He’d always be a part of the environment now._ **


	12. Fusion

Today is Fusion! Which means I’m gonna make this cute!

Featuring [Zwartkop](https://insane-control-room.tumblr.com/tagged/zwartkop), the fusion between [@insane-control-room](https://tmblr.co/mJlb-vW43NaJNACvfy09WfA) and [@halfusek](https://tmblr.co/mAf3vdzc4wXYCzWCxKkU7dA)‘s Joey’s. 

* * *

Zwartkop liked gardening. It was so calm and peaceful, just them and the plants. Having six arms certainly made it easier as well, especially for weeding. They had a little garden they took care of, mostly filled with flowers and herbs. They also had a little kumquat tree. It was small now, but it would be big eventually. At least, that was what they’d read. It was honestly rather exciting to be able to have food that they’d grown themselves. Magenta and Johan were rather excited as well. They were even looking up recipes involving kumquats.

At the moment, they were kneeling in front of their rosebush. Roses were hard to care for, which meant they’d killed more than a few in the beginning. Although the learning curve had been rather steep, they were doing very well now. They were especially proud of their orchids, but those would come later. All of their hands were occupied at the moment. Two hands were watering the roses, two hands were cradling one of the roses, and two hands were cupped around their face. 

_Aren’t they beautiful, Maggie?_ Johan sighed in their mind. 

**_Yeah, it is._ **Magenta agreed. **_I can’t believe we made this._**

Zwartkop smiled, gently stroking a petal of the flower. 

“I’m so proud of you.” They hummed. “You’re growing so well.” They knew the rose couldn’t actually hear them, but they liked doing it anyway. They’d heard somewhere that talking to flowers helped them grow too.

“Alright, that’s enough water.” They got up and wiped one hand on their forehead. “Wouldn’t want you all to be overwatered.” They’d accidentally killed more than a few plants by overwatering.

“I wonder which ones of you are ready.” They knelt over their spices. “Oh! The rosemary is coming on rather nicely.” They’d have to look up what they could do with rosemary.

_It smells so good._

_**It really does. The lavender smells good too.** _

_We should dry it out and use it for potpourri._

_**Potpourri?** _

_I’ve heard it’s nice._

_**I don’t see the appeal.** _

“Maybe I could make tea with this.” Zwartkop murmured, plucking off some peppermint leaves. They’d never made tea before. Maybe it would be fun to learn. Just to be safe, they put the peppermint leaves in a separate little bag before harvesting the herbs that were ready to be harvested. 

“And now the kumquats!” They brought their basket over to the kumquat tree. 

“You’re getting so big, my dear.” They patted the top of the tree with one hand as they plucked off the kumquats with another. “You’ll be taller than me soon.” 

Maybe they should plant another fruit tree. Maybe lemons? If they had lemons, they could make a cake with lemons! Well, they could make other things too, but they were especially excited about making sweets. 

_“We should do this separately too,”_ Johan said as Zwartkop headed back into the house. _“It would be fun. Just the two of us…working together.”_ He and Magenta were cuddling inside their shared mind space, as they often did when fused. Johan was laying with his head on Magenta’s chest. 

**_“You think so?”_** Magenta looked down at him, pausing in running his hand through Johan’s hair. 

_“Yeah.”_ Johan smiled softly. _“Although, I’m happy doing anything with you.”_

**_“You’re such a sap.”_** Magenta laughed, pressing a kiss to Johan’s head.

Zwartkop smiled to themselves as they took out their harvest. For some reason, they had a warm feeling in their heart. 


	13. Pain

Today is pain. :D This is gonna be fun…

* * *

They all slept together after getting out. Henry and Linda had tried to set them up in separate rooms, with a few sleeping in the living room, but they’d all sort of migrated together to sleep in a big pile on the living room floor. Henry certainly wasn’t going to stop them. They seemed happier that way. For many of the former employees, they weren’t used to not having a dozen voices screaming in their mind anymore. The silence felt…unnatural. They couldn’t stand it. They couldn’t stand being alone in their heads. They needed to be close to one another. Even when they weren’t sleeping, it wasn’t uncommon to find the former employees cuddled up together while they read or played games together. They felt a need to touch each other, just to remind themselves that they were out of the studio, that this was real. 

Sleeping in a big pile also made it easier when they woke up screaming. At least one of them woke up screaming every night from nightmares. When this happened, those who had awoken comforted whoever was having a breakdown this time. There was usually a lot of hugging and quiet whispers to reassure the sufferer that they weren’t alone anymore. Sometimes they got up to make the sufferer some hot cocoa or tea.

Whenever Sammy woke up screaming, he had to count his fingers. He wouldn’t allow himself to be touched until he’d counted his fingers to make sure he had the proper amount. He always had to make sure. There had to be ten. Counting his fingers also distracted him from his dreams filled with his sacrificed friends. He had hurt them, killed them, all for a demon that had destroyed him in the end. Susie often helped him when he was crying too much to see his fingers properly. In return, Sammy held her and stroked her hair when she woke up screaming at the memories of being that twisted Alice Angel. She’d sob apologies into his chest, barely coherent and barely registering what was going on around her. He sang lullabies to her when it got especially bad. It helped him as well. 

Tom most often woke up clutching the stump where his left arm had once been as if he half expected that there would be something there. He didn’t wake up screaming or crying. When he woke up, it was in a cold sweat and ready for a fight. He didn’t tell anyone what he dreamed of, but Allison had a few ideas. She knew of his guilt regarding his part in the downfall of the studio and surviving in that hellhole after the monsters had taken over had left its mark on everyone. She was the only one who could ever calm him down at these moments. He pushed everyone else away, both physically and metaphorically. He reverted to being silent when this happened, forgetting that he had a voice once more. Allison wrapped her arms around him and told him it was alright. That they were safe. Tom did the same to her when she woke up crying at the memories of the Ink Demon plaguing her every waking moment in the studio.

Wally pretended he was fine during the daytime, but at night it was hard to hide the scars the studio had left on his psyche. He woke up crying and begging for mercy. Everyone knew who he was begging for mercy from. Susie tried to pretend she didn’t hear his tearful pleas. Shawn held him as the former janitor thrashed about, trying desperately to escape from an enemy only he could see. The toymaker didn’t have too many nightmares himself. The only good thing that came from being a Butcher Gang clone was that he hadn’t had enough sapience to retain many memories of the experience. The only things that ever came to him were vague memories of pain and cold. Sometimes he saw the mangled face of Malice Angel in his dreams or that grinning demon. But it was mostly just darkness.

Grant and Lacie were much the same in terms of their memories of being trapped in the ink. Grant’s nightmares were predominantly filled with his experience prior to being sacrificed to the ink. He was drowning in expense reports. The numbers didn’t add up. None of them added up. Joey’s figure loomed over him, always smiling, always watching. He had to make this work somehow. He had to. He couldn’t disappoint Joey. Joey would hurt him. Oh God, it was all too much. Jack comforted him as best he could. Grant liked just having him there. He didn’t want to talk, he just wanted to have Jack there so he could hold him. Jack didn’t mind. His own nightmares dealt mostly with his sacrifice. Like the Butcher Gang members, he remembered very little about being an ink monster. 

Lacie told everyone she didn’t dream of the studio, but she did. Her dreams weren’t about herself, though. They were about Bertram, trapped in that damned machine. She dreamed of him alone, crying out, begging for someone, **_anyone_** , to come and find him. He’d been by himself for so many years, trapped in that room. That was what he dreamed of too. Whenever he woke up crying he would latch himself onto Lacie’s arm, gripping her tightly as if he was afraid she wasn’t real. She ran one hand through his hair, whispering to him that she was there and that this was indeed real. Normally, Bertram would have hated for so many people to see him in such a state. In this case, though, it made him feel better to have so many other people there. He was terrified of being alone again. 

Norman was possibly the only one who woke up in physical pain. The modifications that had been made to him had left physical scars that still hurt. The doctors at the hospital were almost certain they’d got all the machinery out of him, but there was a distinct possibility they’d missed something. He dreamed of dark hallways, of slogging through ink. One foot in front of the other over and over and over again. Never stopping, never resting. More than anything else, he was tired. He didn’t have the energy to be angry anymore. 

Sometimes Henry would join their sleep pile. His time in the studio had been brief compared to theirs, but he too dreamed of the horrors he’d witnessed. Linda always told him it was alright when he woke up with his nightmares, but he still felt bad at continually interrupting her sleep. The former employees made room for him every time. Wally often latched onto Henry was well, finding comfort in the memory of the time they’d spent together in the safe house.

The worst of their pain was behind them, but they knew the emotional trauma would linger for years to come. Physical injuries healed but emotional injuries were much harder to get rid of. For now, though, they had their sleeping pile and they had each other.


	14. Theories

Today is theories. So I’ll write about a theory I thought was really cool. 

* * *

Henry knew what he’d looked like when he’d walked into the studio. He had an image in his mind of who he was supposed to be. He was Henry Stein; husband, father, animator. He was short, a little out of shape, he wore rather thick glasses, and his daughters liked to make fun of the fact that he only ever seemed to wear slacks and sweater vests. He was, overall, a very ordinary looking man. He’d honestly looked the same for most of his life. 

Which was why he’d been so confused when Sammy hadn’t recognized him. Sammy had met him. Sammy had worked with him. Sure, Henry’s hair was white now, and he had more wrinkles, but his face hadn’t really changed. It left an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of Henry’s stomach. He tried to ignore it as best he could. Being around Boris helped. Boris didn’t seem to know who he was, but it was hard to tell since Boris couldn’t really talk. Henry liked being in the safe house with him. It was comforting to eat soup and play cards with the wolf. But one thing continued to bother him.

**_He couldn’t see his reflection in the mirror._ **

That couldn’t be normal, could it? He leaned in closer, hoping he’d be able to make something out.

“Hey, Boris? Can you come in here?” He leaned out of the bathroom. A moment later, Boris appeared, head tilted to the side. 

“Come here.” Henry gently dragged him in, positioning him in front of the mirror beside him. To his horror, Boris’ silhouette showed up in the blurry glass. Henry took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. Surely…Surely there had to be some explanation for this. Boris frowned, tilting his head to the side and making a small whimper. He rested his head on Henry’s. 

“Sorry, did I scare you, buddy?” Henry asked, laughing shakily. Boris nodded, hugging Henry tightly. 

“I’m fine,” Henry assured him. “Really.” But he wasn’t. 

Leaving the safe house gave him something to occupy his mind. He had a goal. He had something he needed to do. So long as he could keep himself busy, he would be fine. He collected the parts Alice needed, dodged the ink demon, kept putting one foot in front of the other.

“What a pain, huh?” He remarked to Boris as he rode the elevator up from level 14. He was still shaking. His clothes and body were covered in more ink than usual from wading around in that maze. Boris whimpered and rested his head on Henry’s again before pulling him into a hug.

“Thanks.” Henry smiled, patting Boris’ hand. He couldn’t make himself say he was fine. He couldn’t pretend this time. 

The elevator arrived at level 9 and Henry dutifully stepped out, making his way to the box and dropping the ink hearts inside.

“It seems we’ve reached the end of my todo list, my little errand boy,” Alice said. “I hope you enjoyed our time together. I’ll always treasure it. Return to the lift.”

“Time to finally get out of here.” Henry turned and headed back to the elevator. Even though he said that he didn’t entirely believe it. It couldn’t be that easy. Alice wouldn’t let him go that easily.

“Have you ever wondered what Heaven is like?” Alice’s voice was soft and sweet as the elevator began to ascend. Henry had a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“I like to dream that it’s quite beautiful. A soft valley of green grass, blanketed by a warm sun. I don’t think I’ll ever get to see it.” Alice continued. “Are you ready to ascend, my little errand boys? The heavens are waiting.” She started to sob quietly. Slowly, though, the sobs turned into insane laughter. Then the elevator began to drop. Sparks flew and Boris cowered.

“Did you really think I’d let you steal from me?! Did you really think I’d just let you go?!” Alice roared. “No, Henry! I know who you are! And I know why you’re here! And you will not stop what needs to be done!”

“I’m not trying to stop anything!” Henry desperately yelled. “I just want to leave!” He knew she couldn’t hear him. He knew it was useless. 

“Now come down and bring me back my Boris!” Alice kept screaming. “It’s the most perfect Boris I’ve ever seen and I want it! I need it. I need its insides so I can be beautiful again! Don’t you understand? Don’t you get it?! Give him to me! Or better yet, I’ll take him! Once…you’re….dead!” The elevator crashed, and there was only darkness. 

“Stop whining. He’s going to be fine.” As Henry drifted in the cold blackness, he heard Alice’s voice nearby. Judging by the whimpering, she was talking to Boris. Boris’ whimpering only got louder. 

“He’ll be fine!’ Alice snapped. “It’s not like he’s a human anymore. Unfortunately, it will take a lot more than an elevator fall to kill him.” Henry wanted to ask what she meant by that but found himself slipping into unconsciousness once more. When he properly woke up, both she and Boris were gone. 

It wasn’t until he met the other Alice, the one he assumed was Allison, and the Boris called Tom that he finally found out what Alice had been talking about. He’d been in his cell, talking with Allison.

“Are you gonna let me out of here?” He asked. 

“Down here, strangers aren’t good things,” Allison replied. “How can we trust you? We don’t even know what you are.” 

“My name is Henry and I’m a human being.” He tried to put some conviction into his words, some ferocity, _something_ to show he had some fight left in him. But he couldn’t. He was tired. So incredibly tired. Allison paused in her painting, turning to face him with a puzzled look on her face. 

“You’re human?” Something in her tone made Henry frown as well. 

“Yes, of course, I am.” He said, unable to keep an exasperated bite from his words. “What else would I be?”

“You don’t…look human.” Allison approached him slowly, her frown deepening.

“Well, then what do I look like?!” He demanded. Her robbed the breath from his lungs. 

“You look like Bendy. The one from the posters.” 

“….What?” Henry’s voice came out as barely a squeak. 

“You didn’t know?” Allison’s expression transitioned to one of something almost like pity. 

“That…I can’t be…” Henry took a step back, looking down at his hands. They’d been black for quite a while now, but he’d assumed it was just a coating from all the ink he was touching and trudging through. He tried to rub it off with one hand. But it wouldn’t rub off. It wasn’t a coating. It was his **skin**. 

“I’m so sorry,” Allison said. Henry wasn’t listening, though. He reached up to feel his head, his heart stopping when he felt horns instead of hair. This wasn’t right. It couldn’t be right. But the evidence was there, as plain as day. He wasn’t human anymore. He was just like every other doomed inhabitant of this studio. 

**_He was never going home._ **


	15. Time Travel

Today is time travel and I am gonna do some emotional stuff~

The Joey featured here is mine. Just so no one gets confused. 

* * *

He wasn’t even sure why he was doing this. Time travel was a whole can of worms he probably wasn’t ready to open. But he was already too deep to back out now. He just needed to go back. To convince Henry not to leave. Then the studio would right itself and he would no longer be trapped in this Hell. He had to be able to change the past somehow. To fix his mistakes. Henry was always so good at pushing him to do the right thing. He needed Henry there to keep him on the right track.

“This will work.” He murmured as he feverishly drew the lines. “It has to.” Soon he wouldn’t hear the screams anymore. Soon everything would be back to normal. He told himself this as he began to chant the words of the incantation. The runes below him began to glow and he felt himself fading out of this time and into another…

Where he promptly fell face first into a bush. He cursed and floundered about, trying desperately get himself out of the foliage. When he finally got back on his feet, he had leaves and sticks in his hair and possibly down his shirt. 

“Son of a motherfucking bitch.” He cursed under his breath as he brushed off his vest. He knew it wouldn’t do anything, but it made him feel better. He looked around. Where had he ended up? Judging by his surroundings, he was in a forest. He could see lights in the distance, so he was probably near some houses. 

“I swear, if I went too far back.” He grumbled to himself, starting to make his way through the grass and bushes. He could hear the sound of water nearby, maybe a little creek or lake. He was almost out of the forest when he heard a familiar voice. 

“Jojo, how much longer do I have to hold this? My arms are getting tired.”

He froze. That had sounded like Esther. Just…younger. His stomach began to sink. No, it couldn’t be. That had to be a different girl. There was no way it was actually Esther. He couldn’t have gone _that_ far back. Then another voice spoke, one that made his blood run cold.

“Perfection cannot be rushed, Essie.”

That was him. It was undeniably him. He peeked through the bushes, catching sight of the two figures he knew he would find. Younger versions of himself and Esther were crouched on the bank of the stream. His younger self was sitting on the ground, scribbling away on a sketchpad while Young Esther held something in her hands. She had her back to him. Judging by her voice and what he could see of her body, she was probably in her early teens.

“Well, if your perfection doesn’t hurry up, I’m gonna let the frog go.” Young Esther said testily. 

“WaitnoI’msorryEstherI’malmostdoneIpromise.” 

“Ugh. Fine.” 

“Thank you!” Young Joey’s face lit up and he started scribbling even more furiously.

Joey stood there, staring at the younger versions of himself and his sister. Why did his chest suddenly feel so tight? He’d walked away from his family a long time ago. They hadn’t cared about him. They hadn’t! They hadn’t thought he could do it!

“Okay! Done!” Young Joey turned the sketchbook around so Young Esther could see. Young Esther put down what she’d been holding, which had apparently been a frog, and took a look at the picture. 

“You’re getting better.” She said as she wiped her hands on her skirt. “It actually looks like a frog this time.”

“Essie!” Young Joey’s face screwed up in frustration. 

“I’m sorry.” Young Esther laughed, ruffling Young Joey’s hair. “But it **does** look better. You’re making a lot of progress.” Young Joey made a face at the ruffling of his hair, but Joey knew the boy was secretly beaming. He’d always loved when Esther praised him. 

“Joey! Esther! Dinner’s ready!” His mother’s voice came from the house up the hill. Joey’s breath caught in his throat at the sound of her voice. He’d forgotten what a lovely voice she had. Young Joey and Young Esther exchanged a look before scrambling up toward the house. 

“I need to get back,” Joey said to himself, even as his feet carried him up the hill and to the window looking into the dining room. 

There was his father, setting the plates and silverware on the table, and his mother, bringing in the food. Joey took more after his mother than his father, at least when it came to body type. Ethan Drew was a short and stocky man, but both he and Joey had long, dark hair. Joey had always wished he could grow a beard like his father’s, but he’d only ever managed the mustache. Miriam Drew was a slight woman, a little taller than her husband. She was the one Joey and Esther had gotten their freckles from. There were a few streaks of grey in her brown hair, but she was even more beautiful than Joey had remembered. She had such kind eyes and a warm smile. 

“What were you drawing this time?” Miriam asked as Young Esther and Young Joey ran in and sat down at the table. 

“A frog!” Young Joey held up the sketchbook. “Essie caught it for me!”

“You better have washed your hands.” Ethan sat down at his place, giving Young Esther a pointed look. 

“I did, Pa.” Young Esther rolled her eyes. Yep. Definitely a teenager.

“It looks lovely, Jojo.” Miriam smiled, patting Young Joey’s head. 

“You’re certainly getting better.” Ethan agreed as he got a look. “If you keep at this, you’ll be really good someday.” Young Joey’s eyes widened.

“You really think so?” He asked, his voice hushed with awe. 

“I do.” 

“Can we eat?” Young Esther asked. “I’m really hungry.” He could have sworn she looked a little jealous. Then again, she was a teenager. 

“Of course.” Miriam began dishing out the food. 

“Hey, Ma?” Young Joey kicked his feet against the chair. 

“Yes?”

“Can I go over to Ricardo’s house on Friday?” 

“Ricardo is the one you’re taking piano lessons from, right?” Ethan asked. 

“Mm-hm.” Young Joey took a bite of his food. “His mom bought some new sheet music and I wanna see it.”

“As long as you’re back before dinner,” Miriam said.

“Okay!” Young Joey smiled wide. 

“I’m going to be working late tomorrow.” Young Esther poked at her food with her fork. “Delia got sick, so I have to cover her shift.” That was right. Esther had worked at a candy shop when she’d been about 14 or 15. 

“Do you need me to come walk you home when you’re done?” Ethan’s expression shifted slightly, looking a tad worried. 

“It’s fine.” Young Esther shrugged. “I’m walking home with Mildred.”

“As long as you’re safe.” Miriam and Ethan exchanged a concerned glance that neither of their children noticed. 

Joey couldn’t tear himself away from the scene before him. His younger self looked so happy. He couldn’t remember ever being that happy. To his surprise, he found himself crying. 

“They didn’t believe in me.” He said to himself. “They didn’t love me. I had to leave. I had to follow my dreams.” 

But the more he watched, the more wrong he knew he was. When his parents looked at his younger self, he could see genuine love in their eyes. Love he’d convinced himself had never been there. And, he had to admit, now that he was older he knew just how hard it was to be an artist. His parents had known long before he had that what he wanted to do would be hard. 

He lingered outside the house for a long time, just observing his family as it had once been. His father reading his younger self and Esther stories, his mother embroidering. He’d always admired her embroidery. No matter how much she denied it, he always thought she was an artist too. Finally, it came time for his younger self and Esther to head to bed. He moved to the back of the house, peering into the room that he and his sister had once shared. Young Esther was already sitting up in bed, reading a book, while Miriam was tucking his younger self in. 

“Ma?” Young Joey gazed sleepily up at his mother. 

“Yes?” Miriam asked, leaning over Young Joey’s bed.

“I love you.” 

Miriam laughed softly, pressing a kiss to her son’s forehead. “I love you too, Jojo. I will always love you. No matter what happens.”

“Promise?” Young Joey asked. 

“Promise,” Miriam replied.

Joey had to turn away, sinking to the ground with his back against the wall. He closed his eyes, taking deep breaths to try and keep himself from crying. He missed his family. He missed his sister. Running away had been a mistake. Driving Henry away had been a mistake. Everything he’d done since leaving home had been a mistake. 

“I’m sorry.” His voice was small. He didn’t want to do this anymore. He didn’t want to be Joey Drew, studio head, anymore. What was the use in dreaming if it meant he lost everything he cared about?

The world around him began to glow once more as he felt the telltale pull of the magic. When he opened his eyes, he was back in his ruined office. He looked wearily around, dipping his hand into a pool of ink. 

“It might as well have been a dream.” He laughed weakly. He collapsed at his desk, laying his head on the wood and allowing the tears to start flowing. He should never have let things get this bad. 

**_Regrets, Joey?_ **

**_Most certainly._ **


	16. Swap

Today is swap, which gives me a chance to write about [@dumb-batim-aus](https://tmblr.co/mh_D8mp7sYax1L1cb9i7tRw) [Fallen Angel AU](https://dumb-batim-aus.tumblr.com/tagged/batim-fallen-angel-au). Which I am already working on writing in full. ^^”

Note: Tom is mute, but he knows sign language. So whenever he “Talks”, he’s signing. 

* * *

Allison had come to a crossroads. There were two doors before her with a sign pointing to the each. To the left was the one labeled Angel and to the right was the one labeled Demon. She shivered at the memory of the twisted version of Bendy she’d seen in the room behind her. 

“Angel it is, then.” She sighed, heading through that door. She could hear something slam down to her right. It seemed she wouldn’t be able to through that door now, even if she wanted. 

The room beyond the Demon doorway was filled with ink. It was flooded and ink dripped from the ceiling and stained the walls. There was a desk shoved against the wall and a chair in the corner. The chair had an audio log on it, which Allison probably wanted to hear.

“Great. Another flooded room.” She sighed, stepping into the ink. Well, her clothes were pretty much ruined already. She waded over to the chair and pressed play. She tensed as Susie’s voice filled the room. Her showman voice, not her real one. 

“There’s nothing wrong with dreaming. Wishing for the impossible is just human nature. That’s how I got started. Just a pencil and a dream. We all want everything without even having to lift a finger. They say you just have to believe. Belief can make you succeed. Belief can make you rich. Belief can make you powerful. Why with enough belief, you can even cheat death itself. Now that…is a beautiful, and positively silly thought.”

As soon as the tape finished playing, Allison picked it up and hurled it at the wall as hard as she could. The tape recorder cracked and broke, the pieces falling into the abyss of the ink.

“WHOSE DREAM WAS IT, SUSIE?!” She screamed. “WHOSE PENCIL?! IT WAS MINE! MY DREAM! MY WORK! I WAS THE ONE WHO MADE ALL THIS! YOU STOLE IT!” Her breath quickened as 30 years’ worth of repressed anger came bubbling up.

“I TRUSTED YOU!” Allison kicked the wall, tugging at her hair and beginning to pace. “I GAVE YOU EVERYTHING I HAD BUT IT WAS NEVER ENOUGH!” Tears sprung up in her eyes, wiping away some of the ink as they trailed down her face.

“We were supposed to be partners!” Her voice faltered as she was choked by a sob.

“We were supposed to be partners.” She started to sob, collapsing to her knees in the ink. “We were supposed to be friends…” Allison had never had many friends. She’d always been the sort to keep to herself. She’d had…bad experiences with people in the past. She’d thought Susie would be different. But in the end, her ‘friend’ had been just like everyone else. Only interested in what Allison could do for her. 

She stood there for a long time, outright wailing and screaming at the ceiling. It felt good to vent her frustrations. She’d kept it all bottled up for so long. Once she felt calmer, she wiped away her tears and continued out of the room. From there, it was down another hallway. 

“If I’d known how much I’d be walking, I would have worn better shoes,” Allison muttered. She was glad she hadn’t worn heels, but her flats still weren’t doing much in terms of support. She paused, leaning against a wall for support as she took off her shoes and shook them out a bit. Once she was satisfied she’d gotten most of the ink out, she kept going. 

She should have listened to Linda. She should never have come back here. She’d _left_ for goodness sake _._ She’d gotten tired of being pushed around and she’d _left_. She had no reason to come back here. But…some part of her had hoped that maybe, **_maybe_** , if she came back Susie would the same woman she remembered. The one who had praised her ideas and supported her. The one who was her friend. She missed that Susie. She wanted to believe that Susie had been real. Susie couldn’t have been pretending the whole time, right? 

Allison was so consumed in her thoughts, she didn’t notice the Alice cutout that had been set up in front of her until she ran right into it. She shrieked, stumbling back and drawing her sword. Tom poked his head out from around the corner, a smug smile on his face.

“Tom! Don’t do that!” She yelled, sheathing her sword. “You nearly scared me half to death!” Tom snickered quietly, putting the cutout back against the wall. 

“You’re the worst.” Allison rolled her eyes, exhaling with a sharp huff. 

“Sorry.” Tom signed. “Thought you could use a laugh.” Allison’s irritation ebbed a bit at this. 

“Thank you.” She allowed herself a small smile. “I appreciate the effort.”

“No problem.” He returned the smile. He looked a bit awkward smiling, but she was glad he was trying. 

“We should keep going.” She said, gently pushing past him. 

Through the door was what might have once been a storage room. The room was occupied mostly with shelves filled with plushes of Alice, Bendy, and Boris. Most of the plushes were small and on the shelves, but there were a few massive ones on the floor. And, here too, there were Alice cutouts. Despite the puddles on the floor, the toys seemed mostly untouched. Tom passed through the room without a second thought, but Allison lingered. She stood in front of one of the shelves, letting her fingers graze an Alice plush. 

“I should take you with me.” She said, smiling softly at the toy. She’d always dreamed of having merchandise of her characters. Alice was one of her proudest achievements as well. She’d always wanted to have a doll of Alice. The studio hadn’t been nearly successful enough for that when she’d left. Susie really had done a lot without her. 

Tom once again drew her out of her thoughts by rapping on the doorframe with his metal hand. She stumbled away from the shelf, mumbling an apology. It was so easy to get lost in her memories in this place. She exited the room to join Tom. He pointed to the switch in front of him and then to the wire snaking down the hallway. 

“I need to throw this switch. You need to throw the other one.” He said. 

“We need to throw these switches at the same time,” Allison said. Tom nodded, pointing to the wires again.

“Alright.” Allison followed the wire toward where the switch likely was. She paused, though, as she saw a hallway to her right leading to a different part of the level. She could see an audio log on a table. She pursed her lips, glancing back at Tom. He was watching her expectantly, arms folded. She decided she’d get it on the way back. The wire, sure enough, led to a switch. It was right next to a poster of the Butcher Gang. 

“I remember you.” Allison laughed to herself, approaching the poster. “You’re not nearly as scary as you look here.” She turned to flip the switch when something suddenly busted through the poster. She screamed, stumbling back. To her horror, a mangled version of the Butcher Gang leader, Charley, got its feet and shambled toward her with an unnatural rasping shriek. She took it down, of course, but it proved to be tougher than the Searchers she’d previously faced.

“Fuck this studio.” She growled, slamming the switch down. She stalked back out of the hallway and down the other one. She jabbed her finger down on the play button of the audio log. 

“Alright, let’s go over this again,” Wally said. “If the pressure goes over 45, I screw the safety bolt in tighter, right?”

“No!” Thomas snapped. “For the last time, you do that, you’ll blow every pipe in this place! If it reaches 45, you unhook the safety switch.”

“You sure?” Wally asked. “You know, this sounds harder than comparing ear wax to bee’s wax!”

“Look, it’s not that difficult!” Thomas said. “Just keep an eye on the gauge!”

“Look, pal,” Wally said. “If you think I’m doing my job AND yours, I’m outta here!”

“Oh, Wally.” Allison couldn’t help but smile as the recorder clicked off. She loved Wally, but he could be such a doofus. She turned away from the tape recorder, walking back to join Tom by the door. 

“I heard you scream. Are you alright?” He asked. 

“I’m fine.” She assured him. “Just another fucked up ink creature. This place is crawling with them.” 

Tom snorted. “What else is new?”

“Point taken.” Allison laughed wearily. “Let’s get going.” Together, they proceeded through the open door. They passed through a short corridor lined with gears before coming out in the area with the elevator. There were bathrooms to the right and a wraparound staircase leading down to the elevator. Tom and Allison descended the stairs, pressing the button and entering the elevator. 

“You’re so interesting…So different.” Joey’s voice purred out from the speakers. “I have to say, I’m an instant fan. Looks like you’ve got a date with the devil, toots.”

“I was hoping he wouldn’t keep doing that.” Allison groaned quietly. 

“Come to me now, Level 9.” Joey continued unhindered. “Just follow the screams.” Tom jabbed the button before shuffling back and folding his arms. 

“Yeah, I know.” Allison patted his shoulder as the elevator began to descend. “He’s…Something.” She couldn’t think of the creature dictating them as Bendy. She just couldn’t. 

It didn’t take long for them to reach level 9. Allison didn’t recognize this area, but then again, she didn’t recognize a lot of areas she was seeing. 

“Come on, step out of your cage,” Joey said as the grating slid back. “There’s a whole twisted world out here.” Allison glanced at Tom, then back at the level before him. Then, taking a deep breath, she stepped out. 


	17. Underappreciated

Today is Underappreciated. Which means….It’s time for the underappreciated studio workers to complain!

* * *

“It’s like, does anyone even know how much I do around here? I’m- I’m the only reason the studio hasn’t gone under!”

“Amen to that.” 

“They’re all morons, the lot of ‘em.”

“I-I hate my job.” Grant laid his head on the table, hiccuping loudly. “‘S…’S like Joey doesn’t even un-understand how money works.”

Currently, he, Lacie, Wally, Norman, and Shawn were gathered in the basement of Lacie’s house for their weekly session of drinking and complaining about work. It had started with just him, Shawn, and Tom, but when the Bendyland project had started Lacie had joined. Norman had shown up one day with a bottle of liquor and he’d been coming to the complaining sessions ever since. And Wally was there as Shawn’s designated driver. Tom had stopped coming around recently, although they didn’t know why. 

“Let it out.” Shawn patted Grant’s back as the accountant aired his grievances. The only time they could ever get Grant to let out all his negative emotions was when he was drunk. Otherwise, he’d just bottle things up. That wasn’t good for him.

“We’re glad to have you, Grant.” Wally gave him what he hoped was a comforting smile. “You’re the only thing standing between us and bankruptcy.” It was sad how few people appreciated everything Grant did to keep the studio afloat. He was a minor miracle worker.

“Bendyland alone nearly bankrupted us!” Grant moaned, waving his bottle around. “Why does Joey even _**need**_ a theme park?!”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Lacie shrugged, leaning back in her chair. “Certainly isn’t getting off the ground anytime soon.“

“I’m surprised Piedmont hasn’t taken off yet,” Norman remarked, glancing at Lacie. “Wouldn’t think he’d tolerate being around Joey any longer than he has to.”

“At this point, he’s just staying out of spite.” Lacie sighed heavily. “It’s just one big pissing contest between him and Drew. Meanwhile, I’ve gotta make sure those darn workers down burn the warehouse down while he’s tinkering away.” She loved Bertram dearly, but that man could be too stubborn for his own good sometimes. He always got tunnel vision when his pride was threatened.

“Well, I’m assuming you’re doing a pretty good job of it so far.” Norman gently punched her shoulder. “I think I would’ve heard if someone died on your watch.”

“What do you think that ink machine Joey put in even does?” Wally asked. At the mention of the Ink Machine, Grant (who had quieted down a bit) began his moans anew. 

“That machine! That machine has given me a million new gray hairs!”

“I just don’t get what it’s supposed to do.” Wally continued as Shawn tried to keep Grant from getting up on the table. “I’ve had to clean up half a dozen ink spills in this week alone from broken pipes. We don’t even _use_ the ink for anything.”

“It floods everything all the time,” Shawn said, dragging Grant down. “It flooded level 14-″

“Flooded the Buddy Boris Railway area,” Lacie added. 

“Yeah, that too.” Shawn nodded. “It floods everything! And the pipes break all the time! I can’t paint dolls if I’ve got ink all over me!”

“Can’t do expense reports if everything’s covered in ink~” Grant sang, slumped in Shawn’s arms like a ragdoll.

“That pump switch in Sammy’s office sure isn’t helping anyone either.” Norman’s face twisted in irritation. “We can’t exactly do our jobs if he keeps sending us out of the room to go to his little sanctuary. Hell, I can’t even do maintenance on the projector in my booth anymore because he might barge in and interrupt me!” That was one of the things that frustrated him the most. Projector maintenance was time-intensive and required a careful hand. He’d had more than a few projectors blow up in his face and he wasn’t eager to repeat the experience.

“If Tom was here, we could ask him about that machine.” Shawn looked over at the chair where Tom usually sat.

“I wonder why he stopped coming around,” Wally said. He’d been working with Tom a lot more lately, as some mechanic duties had been added onto his janitorial duties. If he was being honest, he was starting to get run a little ragged. Not only was he responsible for keeping the studio clean, he now had to figure out how to maintain some of the machines. 

“Might have something to do with that machine,” Lacie suggested. 

“Might.” Norman agreed. The machine getting put in was about the time Tom had stopped hanging out with them. 

The group lapsed into silence. Grant was crying now, face down on the table. Shawn was patting his back and Wally had started feeding him crackers. For a long time, the only sound in the room was Grant’s muffled sobbing and Shawn and Wally’s comforting words.

“Why’re we still working for Joey?” Norman asked, staring down at his bottle. 

“I’m just staying for Bertram,” Lacie replied.

“I don’t think I’ve got anywhere else to go,” Wally admitted as he toyed with the cracker box. “You really think any other place is gonna hire me?”

“I’m not just gonna abandon Grant.” Shawn didn’t look up from comforting Grant. “Plus Wally’s here.”

“What about you?” Lacie gestured to Norman. “Why’ve you stayed?”

“I dunno.” He shrugged. “Maybe I’m worried the studio’ll collapse if I leave.”

“No one knows projectors better than you.” Wally scooted over to gently elbow Norman in the ribs. 

“And no one knows mops better than you,” Norman replied with a grin. 

“Hey! That’s no fair!”

“You do know mops, Wally.”

“I’m more than just a janitor!”

“Sure, Franks.”


	18. OC

Today is OC. Which means it’s Cordelia time~

* * *

Cordelia Bell loved working at Joey Drew Studios. The people there were like family to her. She loved each and every one more than she could possibly say. Especially Sammy. God, words couldn’t accurately describe her admiration for Sammy Lawrence. Sammy Lawrence, the man who had pulled her away from the teetering edge of a dark depression by sending a single letter. She’d felt silly, sending a fan letter at her age. All it really was was her gushing about how much she loved his music, along with a few vague mentions of how she wanted to be a composer now herself. She hadn’t expected a reply, sure the great Sammy Lawrence had better things to do than indulge a foolish girl such as herself. 

But he’d replied. Not only had he replied, he’d encouraged her to pursue being a composer if that was what would make her happy. He hadn’t sugarcoated it, though, making it clear to her how hard it was to make it as a composer. He’d treated her like an equal, not someone to be talked down to. That had been when she’d first developed a crush on him. Said crush had gotten even worse when she’d actually met him and he’d turned out to be extremely handsome. Still, she was determined to be professional while at work. He was her boss and she didn’t want to overstep any boundaries and get him in trouble. It was clear to everyone in the studio, though, that they were more than just boss and assistant. Sammy never raised his voice nor yelled at her. He was kind and patient with her in a way he wasn’t with other members of the studio. He was even teaching her how to play the piano.

“You _sure_ you two aren’t an item?” Wally grinned, gently elbowing Cordelia in the ribs. 

She sputtered, almost dropping the stack of papers she’d been carrying. “Don’t be ridiculous! He’s my _boss_!” 

“But you’ve got a crush on him, right?” Wally wiggled his eyebrows.

“That was ages ago.” Cordelia rolled her eyes. “He’s like a big brother to me now.” As evidenced by the fact that she had, multiple times, accidentally called the music director by her brother’s name.

“And I don’t date my employees.” Sammy’s voice came from his office. “So I would appreciate if you wouldn’t continue such insinuations, Mr. Franks.” His voice was calm and even, cold as ice. 

“S-Sorry, Sammy.” Wally smiled nervously, moving away from Cordelia. 

Sammy was incredibly protective of his little assistant. If someone hurt her, he would know about it and that person would suddenly find themselves greatly inconvenienced. Sammy never outright hurt his assistant’s antagonizers. No, he was more subtle in his vengeance. They would find their pens missing, mugs covered in superglue, bubblegum on their chair. The victim always knew who was responsible, but could never prove it. After all, Sammy was too uptight to be a prankster. Right?

One person Cordelia didn’t have to worry about overstepping any boundaries with was Miss Susie Campbell. Susie, bright and warm and fiery as the sun, had met Cordelia when she’d been hiding in Norman’s booth coming down from a panic attack. She’d found the younger woman adorable and practically adopted her as an honorary little sister. She ate her lunch with Cordelia and often spent her breaks with the younger woman. This had been the beginning of Cordelia’s second crush at the studio. Susie was so bright and beautiful and confident. Cordelia both wanted to be like her and be with her. The fact that Susie tended to be rather physically affectionate didn’t help Cordelia’s crush, but she managed.

“You know, I could give you voice lessons, honey,” Susie said one day while they were on their break.

“M-Me?!” Cordelia nearly choked on her thermos of tea. “But I’m no singer. N-Not like you!”

“I’ve heard you singing when you’re alone.” Susie smiled mischievously. “You **could** be a singer someday.”

“I’m no singer.” Cordelia shook her head, looking away from Susie. “I’m…I’m not like you.” She envied Susie’s confidence, her ability to be so unapologetically herself, never second-guessing herself for a moment. She didn’t yet know that Susie’s confidence was an illusion.

“Everyone starts somewhere, sweetheart,” Susie said, putting an arm around Cordelia. “But if you really don’t want to, I won’t ask you again.”

“I…I might like the lessons,” Cordelia admitted. “I just…I don’t think I’m going to be a singer.” She glanced sheepishly back at Susie. “No offense.”

“Nonetaken.” Susie waved a hand dismissively. “I don’t mind.”

“But thank you.” Cordelia managed a smile. “I appreciate it.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it!” Susie chirped. “It’s nice spending time with another girl.”

Wally also found himself enjoying the company of Sammy’s assistant. He liked teasing her almost as much as he liked teasing Sammy. She had such adorable reactions. It was certainly worth her chewing him out afterward. He didn’t mind the scolding. He felt like she needed a laugh. She put on a cheerful face, but he’d seen the way that face slipped when she was alone. The girl was wiser than her years. He didn’t know what she’d been through, he didn’t want to pry, but something had clearly happened to age her mind. As long as he could make her, and the others like her in the studio, laugh he was satisfied. 

Although she was closest with Sammy and Susie, Cordelia loved everyone at the studio. Everyone….except for Joey. She hadn’t seen it at first, but there was a darkness to Joey. Something about him made her distinctly uncomfortable. It was nigh impossible to tell what Joey was thinking at any given moment. Although he never seemed to stop smiling, that smile never reached his eyes. Even after she left the studio, those eyes haunted her dreams. Cold and flat, like the eyes of a dead man. She didn’t know what lay behind those eyes, but it couldn’t be anything good. 

Joey found Cordelia Bell to be adorable. He remembered the day she’d been hired. She’d come in, clutching that newspaper ad to her chest, fresh-faced and full of hope. He hadn’t thought much of her in the beginning, but as his plans unfurled…He realized what a wonderful pawn she could make. She was kind to a fault and thought nothing of her own safety. She considered the other studio workers her family. She would do anything for them. He’d just have to take her up on that. 


	19. Sick

Today is Sick and since I’ve done a lot of angst, I’m gonna do something cute

* * *

A bad case of the flu had been sweeping through the studio, which meant a lot of the studio members were out of commission. Sammy, Grant, Shawn, and Allison were all out sick, and Susie was gone to take care of Sammy. And to keep **him** from coming to work. Apparently, he didn’t trust the band members. This also meant that a few of the more hardcore workaholics were trying to come back to the studio while sick. Those few hardcore workaholics were solely Henry and Bertram. Especially Henry. The healthy studio members were conferring about how to best get them to go home. 

“It’s not good for them to be here,” Joey said, his fingers steepled in front of him. “They’re just making their sickness worse. Not to mention they could make other people sick.”

“But how’re we gonna get them out?” Wally asked. “They’re gonna put up a fight, right?”

“Piedmont’ll be hard to get out.” Tom drummed his fingers on the table. “Getting him out physically is out of the question. He’s a big guy.”

“I’m just gonna pick him up and carry him out,” Lacie said. Everyone gathered around the break room table turned to look at her. She was leaning nonchalantly against the wall. 

“Well, if anyone could do it, it’d be you.” Norman stifled a snicker behind his hand. Lacie just rolled her eyes. Norman or Tom could probably have done it too, but Lacie was the only one Bertram would tolerate literally picking him up.

“That just leaves Henry.” Joey frowned. “He might be a bit difficult. Normally I’d call Linda, but she’s out of town at a teacher’s conference.”

“There are cots in the infirmary. We could make him sleep there until we can get him home.” Jack suggested. Joey turned slowly to look at Jack. For a moment, Jack was worried he’d said the wrong thing. Then he noticed the way Joey’s eyes were sparkling. 

“Jack, you are a genius.” He whispered, grabbing Jack by the shoulders. “We just need to lure him down there!”

This task fell to Wally because no one else wanted to do it. And Wally was already immune to the flu.

“Uh? Mr. Stein? You okay?” Wally asked, tentatively approaching Henry. The animator was slumped over his desk, going through the motions of drawing Bendy on a blank piece of paper. The cap was still on his pen.

“Mr. Stein?” Wally gently tapped his shoulder. 

“‘M fine,” Henry mumbled, then sniffled loudly. 

“The cap’s still on your pen.”

“Issit?” Henry sat up, gazing blearily at his pen. “Aw, man. Shoulda seen that.” Wally stifled a snicker. 

“So, uh, Mr. Drew wanted to see you in the infirmary.” He said. He kept breaking off to snicker as he watched his boss turn clumsily around. He shouldn’t laugh. Henry was very sick. It was just so funny, though. Henry was pretty hilarious when he was extremely tired, drunk, or sick. 

“In the infirmary?” Henry squinted at him, swaying side to side. “Why there?”

“He rolled his ankle.” 

By all accounts, Henry should not have believed Wally. The janitor kept pausing to snicker, wouldn’t make eye contact. It was obvious that he was up to something. But Henry got up, starting toward the infirmary. Wally was momentarily stunned that his ruse had worked before quickly shaking it off and following his loopy boss.

“Joey!” Henry yelled as he stumbled down the stairs. “Whaddaya want?” Almost as soon as he entered the infirmary, he was ambushed by a team of interns in hospital masks. 

“What the-? Wus goin’ on?!” He protested. 

“This is for your own good, Henry,” Joey said solemnly as the interns wrapped his friend in a large comforter and rolled him onto the cot. 

“I gotta work!” Henry whined, kicking his legs ineffectually.

“You need rest, Henry. You’re sick.” Joey insisted. “I’ll drive you home at the end of the day. But for the time being, you’re going to stay here and rest.” 

Henry spent the rest of the day alternating between sleeping and groaning about how he needed to work. When Joey came to pick him up, he was asleep. Bertram had been removed from the premises that morning by Lacie, who had slung him over her shoulder and carried him out, just as she’d said she would. 

“You ready to go home?” Joey asked, gently prodding Henry with his cane. 

“Mm?” Henry opened his eyes, then glared weakly at Joey. 

“You betrayed me.” He mumbled. 

“You’re sick. You needed rest. Linda would have done the same.” Joey smiled and folded his arms. Linda would be home tomorrow, thankfully, and she would no doubt be much better at wrangling a sick Henry than Joey was. 

“You’re the worst.” Henry pouted. 

“I know, I know. Come on.” Joey managed to get him up, helping him out to his car and driving him home. Henry fell asleep again on the drive over, still partially wrapped in the comforter. Once at Henry’s house, Joey got his friend into bed. 

“There we go.” He said as he tucked Henry in. He couldn't help but chuckle as he watched Henry wriggle around, trying to get comfortable. Henry was certainly in for a talking-to from Linda when she got home. Once he was satisfied Henry would sleep well, he took the guest bed. It had been a long day.


	20. Redesign

It’s redesign time! Maybe not the redesign you’re expecting, though.

I need to flesh out my [Sammy Angel AU](https://queenofcats17.tumblr.com/tagged/sammy-angel-au) anyway

* * *

He stumbled down the hallway, his mind swimming. His hand left a trail of ink on the wall as he hobbled along.

**_Where was he?_ **

**_What was he doing here?_ **

**_Who was he?_ **

He’d come here for something important, but he wasn’t sure what it had been. Someone had called him back. He had a reason to be here. He just couldn’t remember what it was. There had been a machine. And a letter. But how did those connect? And why did he see a grinning demon whenever he closed his eyes?

As he stumbled along, he could hear a woman singing. He stopped, looking blearily around. That voice…So beautiful. 

“Like an angel…” He whispered. His voice came out garbled. Something was covering his mouth, muffling his words. The singing stopped and he heard footsteps approaching him.

“Who’s there?” A woman asked. Even her speaking voice was beautiful. He felt his knees began to weaken. He wasn’t sure whether it was from love or from the inky state of his body. He was finding it rather had to keep himself together. The temptation to just let go was incredibly strong. He’d been keeping himself together ever since waking up in that room. He was growing tired now. 

“What’s this?” He turned to face the woman and let out an involuntary gasp. Her form was backlit by the light from the room behind her, looking like an angel descending from Heaven to grace him with her presence. The halo he could see on her head only strengthened this assumption. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, even though he couldn’t make out her features. 

“Look who’s come crawling home.” The woman’s voice shifted from its light and airy tone to a deeper and more sultry one. “What a pitiful sight you make now.” 

“My Lady!” He gasped, sinking to his knees. “Please, take pity on me!” The woman took a step closer and he quickly bowed his head. He was not worthy of beholding her countenance, he told himself.

“Well, this is a pleasant surprise.” She laughed, resting slender fingers on his head. 

“I am not worthy.” He murmured feverishly. 

“Oh, you have that right.” The woman laughed, the sound harsh and cruel. “You are nothing! You abandoned me! You let Joey use me!” A sob ripped through the air, the woman’s fingers digging into his scalp. 

“Forgive me, my lady.” He pressed his forehead against the ground, groveling at her feet. There was something familiar about her voice. Something that filled him with great shame and guilt. He had done this woman wrong, he was sure of it. The woman was silent for a moment before kneeling down to his level. 

“Do you really mean it?” He voice was high again. “Are you really sorry?”

“I am. I have wronged you greatly. Do with me what you will.”

The woman giggled and he heard he clap her hands together.

“Well, I suppose if you’ve truly repented, I could give you a little bit of help.” She said. “You’re certainly nowhere near as handsome as you used to be. Let’s see if we can fix that.” He didn’t dare lift his head to ask what she meant. Instead, she lifted it for him. To his surprise, he felt soft lips pressing against his own. Or where his lips might have been. 

“I’m going to make you perfect.” The woman whispered. That was when he felt a prick in his neck and his strength began to fade. He was serenaded into unconsciousness by the woman’s humming.

.

He woke up screaming. A dozen thoughts flashed through his mind, much as they had when he had first emerged from the ink machine. But this time, the answers came to mind soon after the questions surfaced. 

**_Where was he?_ **

He was in Joey Drew Studios. At least, he was pretty sure that was where he was. That was the last place he remembered being. 

**_What was he doing here?_ **

Someone had sent him a letter. Someone important. Someone with a wide grin. Bendy? No. Maybe?

**_Who was he?_ **

He was Sammy…Sammy…There was a second part, he was sure of it. Sammy L? Sammy A?

“Sammy~” He felt arms wrap around him from behind him. “Are you feeling better?”

“Alice?” The name came to mind without him needing to think too hard on it. Alice was his sister. Or…his girlfriend? She was important, at the very least.

“That’s me!” He breathed a sigh of relief, turning to face her. Alice was good. Alice was familiar. He knew Alice. She looked just as he remembered, save the apron she was wearing. However, her face was what gave him concern.

“What happened?” He asked, reaching up to gingerly touch the left side of her face. It was mangled and twisted, almost appearing melted. Alice drew away, trying to cover her face. 

“That’s not important.” She said quickly. 

Sammy frowned. “Did Bendy do this to you? That little devil-”

“It’s not important!” Alice snapped. Sammy drew back, startled by her ferocity. She took a deep breath, smoothing out her apron.

“It’s not important.” She repeated, smiling sweetly. “Why don’t you take a look at yourself? I’m rather proud of the work I’ve done.” She gestured to a mirror in the corner of the room. Sammy didn’t want to abandon the topic, but it was clear he wasn’t going to get her to talk about it. So he did as she asked and went to the mirror. He was rather startled by what he saw. 

“That…That can’t be me.” He stammered, reaching out to touch the glass with one hand. 

The creature staring back at him did look like him, but only barely. His normally light hair was dark and limp. His halo was lodged in his head, rather like Alice’s was. The upper right side of his face looked to be covered in thick ink, his right eye a uniform glowing yellow circle. His arms, from hands right up to the elbows, were black, as though soaked in ink. The rest of his clothes were incredibly disheveled and he seemed to be lacking shoes. And his wings! Oh, his lovely wings! They drooped behind him, gloopy and barely formed. 

“I couldn’t make you perfect, but you certainly look better than you did when I found you,” Alice said, coming up behind him and wrapping her arms around him. “And now I can touch you properly.” He nodded slowly, unable to tear his gaze away from the person looking back at him. This wasn’t right. It couldn’t be right.

“Who did this to us?” He asked, putting a hand on Alice’s to give himself strength. “Why do we look so…wrong?”

“The Ink Demon.” Alice’s face contorted in a snarl. “He’s denied us perfection!” 

“The Ink Demon,” Sammy repeated, his own expression darkening. An all-encompassing smile flashed across his mind. The thought of it made his heart burn with rage. 

“I was having trouble combatting him before.” Alice’s expression returned to a more pleasant one as she smiled at Sammy. “But now that you’re here, I’m not by myself anymore. Together, I’m sure we can destroy him.” Sammy considered this a moment. Then, he smiled. 

“You know, I think I’d rather like that.”

The Angel had created herself a partner, re-shaping the mass of formless ink into something resembling a person. The Ink Demon would not stop her now. She would have her perfection.


	21. Ritual

It’s Ritual day. This one is a bit shorter.

* * *

Henry Stein had never been one for black magic or rituals. He knew what he believed in and what he was willing to do. Magic was interesting to him, sure, just not the way it was to Joey. Calling it an obsession…Was that too cruel? It hadn’t been an obsession at first, certainly. It had become that, though. Still, Henry wasn’t interested in that sort of thing. Joey could experiment and dabble all he liked, but black magic had no place in Henry’s world. 

But…that was what he was doing right now, wasn’t it? This was all a ritual. Turning on the machine, venturing through the studio, playing the End reel. The loops changed sometimes, (Joey liked to mix things up sometimes) but the basic beats always remained the same. Turn on the machine. Fall into the Music Department. Run away from Bendy. Find the safe house. Do Alice’s errands. Enter the Bendy Hell warehouse. Get captured. Find the Administration Area. Enter the Ink Machine. Play the End Reel.

It was all just one big ritual, played out over and over again for Joey’s amusement. Loop after loop after loop. No matter how Joey changed the story, he could never save anyone. Boris always died. Sammy always lost his mind. Norman was always the Projectionist. Every loop made him feel more and more powerless. He couldn’t save anyone. He couldn’t escape. He wasn’t even truly Henry Stein, just a character Joey had created to mimic his old friend.

Sometimes he wondered how Joey had achieved this. Judging from the coffins, at least a few people had **actually** died. The letter from Allison on Joey’s bulletin board suggested Joey had stolen an Ink Machine from the old studio. Maybe that was how Joey had created this whole contained world. Those thoughts never lasted long, though. He had his survival to worry about. He couldn’t spend all his time trying to work out Joey’s plans. 

He had to follow the ritual, had to play his part. He couldn’t break the cycle. It was always the same. He stepped through the door and back into the studio.

_“Alright, I’m here, Joey. Let’s see what you wanted to show me.”_

The ritual began once again.


	22. Family

Today is Family. Which means I am going to be unashamedly sappy and fluffy.

* * *

Henry was used to having a big family. Stein family gatherings had always been a sight to behold. Aunts, uncles, grandparents all gathered together, children running around. He’d grown up with a vast network of family members he could rely on when times got tough. He and Linda had kept their own family rather small, only having two children themselves. Two had been the most manageable for them. Two beautiful girls. Abigail and Sarah. Abigail was off in Chicago now, writing for a paper, and Sarah had moved to Portland with her husband to work at an accounting firm.

The house had been quiet since the departure of their daughters. Their friends had warned them of the empty nest syndrome, but neither had quite been prepared for quite how hard it would hit them. Both missed the bustle of having others in the house. It was eased when their grandchildren came over or when Linda had the neighborhood children over for piano lessons, yet they knew that was only temporary. 

Then Henry went to the studio and returned with the former employees of the studio. Suddenly, the house was full of life once more. The Stein house was home base as they tried to find the families of many of the employees. There were people everywhere all the time. And it felt good. It felt good to have other people there again. Even if the toons did present…unique problems.

“Bendy!” Sammy’s voice echoed through the house. Henry glanced at the little demon who was trying to hide under the table. 

“What did you do?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“…Nothing.” Bendy avoided eye contact.

“Something tells me _someone_ stole Sammy’s suspenders again,” Linda said. Norman was having another one of his headaches, so she was making him some tea to help.

“Oh, Ben.” Henry sighed, shaking his head. 

“Bo wants to try ‘em on! It’s not like I’m taking’ ‘em forever!” Bendy hissed. He had the suspenders clutched to his chest, worried to hide them away in hammerspace. He was still figuring out how hammerspace worked in this new world.

“You need to ask before you take things from people.” Henry leaned down to pat the little demon between his horns. Just then, Sammy came storming into the kitchen. He was holding his pants up with one hand while the other held Wally by the ear. Wally wasn’t wearing any pants.

“I told you I got nothing to do with this!” Wally was protesting. “Lemme go!”

“I didn’t drag you down here for that.” Sammy let go of his ear. 

“Why did you drag him here then?” Henry tried to hide the grin spreading across his face. 

“He needs new pants and he’s not going to ask for them on his own,” Sammy replied.

“It’s fine. I can fix them!” Wally insisted.

“If it were just a rip, yes, but they were shredded.” Sammy tried to fold his arms then fumbled as his pants almost fell down. From under the table, Bendy let out a loud snort. 

“Boris shredded your pants?” Linda turned around, one mug of tea in each hand. 

“He was just playin’ around,” Wally said. “Didn’t know they were mine. Seriously, it’s fine. I don’t wanna bother you guys. I can just wear overalls.”

“You need new pants.” Sammy’s voice left no room for discussion. “Also, I would like my suspenders back, Bendy.” There was a quiet airhorn noise from under the table and Bendy crawled out. 

“How’d you know I was under there?” He pouted. 

“You weren’t very conspicuous, bud.” Henry stifled a laugh. Bendy pouted more, holding the suspenders out to Sammy. 

“I just took ‘em so Bo could try ‘em.” He grumbled.

“You could have asked,” Sammy said, putting his suspenders on. “It would at least have given me time to find something else to wear.”

“We’ll take you shopping for pants later, Wally,” Linda told him as she headed upstairs to Norman’s room. Wally opened his mouth to object but quickly closed it. 

“Thanks, Mrs. Stein.” He mumbled, flushing and playing with the hem of his shirt.

“Call me Linda.” She gave him a smile before disappearing up the stairs. 

“Henry, do you have any suspenders Boris could use?” Sammy asked. “Preferably ones that you’re not using.”

“You’ve got suspenders?!” Bendy’s eyes lit up and before Henry knew what was happening the little demon had practically climbed him, grabbing handfuls of Henry’s shirt. “You gotta let me borrow ‘em! Bo really wants to wear suspenders and a bowtie!”

“Alright, alright.” Henry gently removed Bendy from his shirt. “Let’s see what I have, okay?” He started toward the stairs, stopping beside Sammy. “Do you want to come?”

“No thank you.” Sammy shook his head, self-consciously straightening his suspenders. “Susie and I are going to the music store to see if we can get my banjo fixed.”

“Have fun.” Henry started up the stairs. He could hear Shawn, Tom, and Grant in one room, with Shawn and Tom having some argument about mechanical toys while Grant tried to calm them down. Allison and Alice were in another room, doing scales together. Henry smiled to himself. This wasn’t exactly the family he’d imagined having at this age, but he certainly wasn’t complaining. He’d always imagined the studio employees as his family anyway.


	23. Nightmare Run

Today is Nightmare Run

* * *

“Ben, what are you doing?”

Bendy froze in his tracks at the sound of Henry’s voice, as did the living treasure chest with tentacles coming out of it. 

“Mr. Polk said it was okay to play down here,” Bendy said, pointing to where Norman sat on a crate with Alice, Boris, and the other three toons Henry had yet to meet. 

Henry had come to level 14 looking for his son, mostly to make sure he wasn’t getting into trouble. The studio was only just getting back on its feet and everyone was still a little on edge from the Hell Joey had put them through. He hadn’t particularly expected to find four one-off toons that he most certainly had not brought to life. 

“No one ever comes down here anyway.” Norman shrugged. 

“That’s not really what I was asking.” Henry leaned against the railing, trying not to laugh. 

“Are you…Askin’ about Chester?” Bendy asked slowly. Chester started to fidget with his tentacles.

“I’m asking about all four of them. I don’t remember bringing them to life.”

“We…kinda brought them to life ourselves?” Alice smiled sheepishly. “Using the machine?”

“Please don’t be mad.” Boris’ ears drooped. “We know we’re not supposed to touch the machine and all but…”

“I-It was my idea.” Bendy stammered. “If you’re gonna be mad at anyone, be mad at me!” Henry sighed, descending the stairs to stand beside the toons and Norman.

“The machine is dangerous. You know that.” He said. “I’m not angry with you all, I’m just disappointed.” The toons looked even more distraught by this. 

“Not the ‘I’m just disappointed’ look!” Bendy fell to his knees, hands clasped in a praying position. “Anything but that!” Norman stifled a snort, turning his head so that the toons couldn’t see him.

“W-We’re sorry.” Boris’ lip quivered. 

“We just wanted to play!” Alice said. “Bendy came up with a really fun game and we needed them for it!” She pointed to the silent toons. 

Throughout all this, Chester, Dewey, Gaskette, and Canoodle had just sort of been awkwardly sitting there. They looked incredibly uncomfortable with the situation but lacked the ability to express their discomfort. They’d just been one-off characters, so it made sense that they wouldn’t have voices.

“What kind of game required you to bring four other toons to life?” Henry gently pulled Bendy to his feet. All three of the main toons looked on the verge of breaking down and crying at this point. 

“They have these four chase them while they collect bacon soup,” Norman explained, jerking a thumb at assembled newcomers. “Give ‘em a break, Henry. They obviously feel bad about it.” Henry looked at Boris, Bendy, and Alice, all fighting back tears, and sighed.

“Come here.” He said, drawing them into a hug. “I’m sorry for upsetting you all. I just worry. The machine is very dangerous and it’s been used to kill a lot of people.” He held them for a few minutes, or at least until they seemed to have calmed down, then let them go. 

“The next time you want to use the machine, you ask me. Okay?”

“Okay.” They all nodded. 

“Can we keep playing now?” Alice asked. “It’s my turn and I wanna run from Dewey.”

“Go ahead.” Henry sat down on the crate beside Norman. 

“Hey! I wasn’t done!” Bendy stamped his foot. “I still need to collect five more cans!”

“But it’s been your turn for forever!” Alice whined. “You got chased by Chester **_AND_** Canoodle!” 

“I haven’t gotten a turn yet.” Boris raised his hand. “And Gaskette hasn’t gotten to chase anybody.” Henry watched them, the gears turning in his head. This had the makings of a very interesting episode.


	24. Crossover

It’s Crossover time, so I’m gonna dip into [this](https://queenofcats17.tumblr.com/post/180746179395/good-intentions) again.

Gingie and [Hymns of Struggle](https://pipesflowforeverandever.tumblr.com/tagged/hymns%20of%20struggle) belong to [@pipesflowforeverandever](https://tmblr.co/m2zmumMEKoKDrJDlESd5txQ)

This version of Loki belongs to me

* * *

“So, you got out.”

“Mm.” Joey didn’t even need to turn to know who was beside him. Although he’d only ever heard this voice once before, it was a distinct one.

“I’m proud of you.” Loki reached over to slap his back. Joey let out a small squeak as he was pushed forward by the force of the impact.

It was coming up on dusk, and he, Francine, and Susie were having a picnic in the park. Francine was showing Susie how to fly a kite in the valley below the hill which left Joey to watch the picnic supplies. He didn’t mind. He just wanted to enjoy the day while it lasted. He still couldn’t believe it. He was out.

“I don’t think I’ve done anything to be proud of.” Joey’s voice was soft, unsure. “I was such a stubborn fool.” 

“You admitted your mistakes.” Loki’s expression softened as well. “You did what you could to fix what you did. You moved on. That’s more than I could ever do.”

They lapsed into silence, watching the sky as it was painted in vibrant purples and oranges by the setting sun. Joey had forgotten how much he’d missed sunsets. It was so wonderful to be able to see colors again. He took a deep breath, relishing the feeling of the wind on his face, the soft picnic blanket under his hands. Tentatively, he ventured a glance at the god beside him. 

Loki was watching the sky, a far off look in his eyes. His red hair shone like fire in the fading sunlight, the flashes of silver looking a bit like smoke. The lines around his mouth and eyes appeared more prominent when he had a neutral expression, making him appear older. He’d elected to appear in a rumpled white button-up shirt and black pants this time, although still with no shoes.

“You were right,” Joey said. “I should have listened to Francine sooner. I should have accepted my mistakes sooner.”

“I know.” Loki nodded ever so slightly.

“You’re not going to gloat?” Joey let a nervous laugh slip from his lips. 

“I’m pretty sure that’s the last thing you need right now.” Loki laughed as well. There was no joy in that laugh, though. It was the laugh of someone indescribably tired. 

“Anyway, like I said, I’m proud of you.” Loki clapped Joey on the back again. “Mostly because you actually managed to do the shit I couldn’t.”

“Ah, well, thank you.” Joey rather wished Loki would stop slapping him on the back. He was an old man and Loki was rather strong for someone so skinny.

“No problem.” Loki leaned back on his hands, giving Joey a big smile. It was a decided mischevious expression, but certainly warm and inviting.

They were silent for a little while longer, listening to Francine and Susie’s distant voices. Susie was evidently frustrated with the kite, judging by the way her voice was rising. Francine’s voice was kind and calming, reassuring Susie that it was alright and that she would show her the proper way to fly the kite.

“Did you ever get to see your son again?” Loki asked. 

“Ah…No…” Joey’s face fell. “He…He has been dead for a long time.”

“I’m sorry.” Loki’s expression softened and he reached out to touch Joey’s shoulder. 

“But…He died surrounded by family.” Joey felt the tears welling up in his eyes. “He was…happy.” He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He didn’t want to cry in front of this man. 

“He died loved,” Loki said. 

“Yes. He died loved.” Joey’s voice broke, a sob ripping its way through his body. He wished he could have been there for his son. He knew he wouldn’t have been there for Henry’s death, but he had always imagined Henry would be there for his. Linda would likely die before him as well. It was a terrible feeling to be a father outliving his child. 

“There’s no shame in crying.” Loki put his hand on Joey’s back, patting it gently as a father would his child. “Death is difficult.” 

The god’s voice and touch were comforting that Joey allowed himself to cry. It felt good to let out all the emotions he’d been keeping bottled up. Loki remained silent, allowing Joey to wail and rant as much as he wanted. It was only once he was finished crying that he realized how loud he’d been.

“O-Oh dear.” He peered down the hill. “I do hope the girls didn’t hear that.”

“They didn’t,” Loki said. “This is a dream, after all.” Joey blinked, turning his gaze back to Loki.

“Pardon?”

“Now that you’re out of the studio, I can’t manifest to you directly,” Loki explained. “Like I said, I’m trapped in a cave. I can’t physically leave it. I can project myself into people’s dreams, but that’s the extent of it.” 

“Ah.” Joey let out a sigh of relief at the knowledge he wasn’t troubling Susie or Francine. “Well, thank you for allowing me to vent my emotions a bit. I do believe I needed that.”

“We all need a good cry every now and again.” Loki gave him a weary smile. “I should be going. Your friends are about to wake you up.” He stood up, stretching like a cat. 

“I enjoyed talking with you,” Joey said. “I do hope you’ll be able to see your children again.”

“Yeah, me too.” Then Loki was gone. Joey felt someone gently shaking him and his eyes fluttered open. Francine was crouched over him while Susie stood back a bit, fiddling with the kite. 

“We’re going to head back now,” Francine said. “Could you help us clean up?”

“Of course.” Joey sat up, stifling a yawn. “My apologies for dozing off like that.”

“It’s fine,” Francine assured him. Together, they began to clean up the dishes and leftover food. In the back of his mind, Joey thought of Loki. He did hope Loki would see his children again. At least one of them deserved to.


	25. Lonely

Today is Lonely, which means it’s angst time again.

* * *

It got lonely down on Level 9. Although it wasn’t as though she was going to admit that to anyone. But…She was lonely. The studio had always been so full of life. People everywhere all the time, coming and going. Especially in the Music Department. If she closed her eyes, she could still hear the band running through whatever piece they had to record that day, Wally making some stupid joke, Sammy…Sometimes she’d caught Sammy singing to himself when he’d been alone. He’d had the most beautiful voice. Maybe he still did. She hadn’t heard him sing in a long time. Now, it was quiet. The only sounds she ever heard were the groans of the Searchers and Butcher Gang clones or the whir of the machinery around her. 

Her isolation was self-imposed, she knew that full well. She could have gone out and tried to make friends. There weren’t a lot of options, though. She’d tried interacting with the Borises, but they were no substitute for the people she’d known. They had no personality, nothing unique about them. They could go through the motions and _act_ like people, but they weren’t. The Butcher Gang clones weren’t even sapient, living only to attack. Sammy worshipped the Ink Demon with a sycophantic passion, rejecting everything else as blasphemous. She wasn’t even going to consider the Ink Demon. But…there was the other Angel on the lower levels. The one she was sure was Allison…Would she even want to talk to the woman who had once been Susie Campbell?

“I’m just a lonely angel.” She whispered to herself, huddled in her sanctuary. “Sitting here on a shelf. At times it seemed, if I just dreamed, I’d not be by myself.”

Even if the other inhabitants of the studio hadn’t been inky monstrosities, she was sure they wouldn’t want to talk to her. She’d pushed everyone away after she’d lost her role. She’d been angry and hurt and she’d lashed out. That was no excuse, though. She’d been awful. There was a possibility that Allison had lost her memories in being turned into an ink creature, but if she hadn’t…There was no way she’d want to talk to Alice. 

_I’m just your puppet, when you tug on my strings_

She could have blamed Joey for this. She could have. And part of her did. He hadn’t been responsible for everything she’d done, though. He hadn’t made her call Allison awful names. He hadn’t made her lash out at Sammy. Her isolation was her fault. She was lonely because she’d pushed everyone away. It was all her fault.


	26. Favorite AU

Today is fave AU. My first thought is the [False Protagonists AU](https://disneyphantomlover.tumblr.com/tagged/false-protagonists-au), but I’ve already got something planned for that. So I’ll another AU that’s near and dear to my heart. 

~~I know I already did something with this au, but I really love it. Have some shameless fluff of James and Ben.~~

[Happily Ever After AU](https://a-rae-of-sunshine.tumblr.com/tagged/batim-hea-au) belongs to [@a-rae-of-sunshine](https://tmblr.co/mVCygfJ6CjUgWH2MDIzrCog)

* * *

Bendy had never really imagined becoming a father. He was an ink creature. He wasn’t really built to reproduce. But when James had brought up the idea of possibly adopting a child, Bendy had found himself delighted by the prospect. 

“Adopt a…child?” Bendy signed slowly, his hands in James’. 

“I want to have a family with you,” James said. “And, well, neither of us is really equipped to produce a kid.” He laughed. “If you don’t want to, that’s alright. I just wanted to bring it up.” He had a warm smile on his face, the smile that always made Bendy melt. 

Bendy considered this. A family…with James. The idea made him feel warm inside. He couldn’t help but smile a little. He could be to another child what Henry had been to him. He looked up at James, tracing the lines in his husband’s face with his eyes. They would be good parents, wouldn’t they? And Henry would no doubt be happy to help if they ran into trouble.

“Ben? You’re being awfully quiet. You alright?” James’ smile had turned into a concerned frown. 

“I’m fine,” Bendy replied. “I think…I’d like that. I’d like to adopt a child with you.” 

James lit up, squeezing Bendy’s hands tightly. “This is going to be great!”

That was how little Henrietta had joined their family. She provided her own challenges, being deaf, but both Bendy and James were willing to put in the work to make sure they were the best family they could be for her. They let her know from the moment they brought her into their home that she was wanted and loved. Henrietta understood that she was loved, and she loved her fathers right back. She didn’t say it all that often, but the way she snuggled up against them when watching TV or came to sleep with them if she had a nightmare said all they needed to hear. She didn’t need to say it if she didn’t want to.

One rather funny thing that tended to happen was that James often didn’t know who was pulling on his pant leg to get his attention. Although Bendy mostly used his human form while awake, there was always the possibility he’d decided to use his little bean form. He’d have to lean down and have the person spell out who it was. It was usually Henrietta, but there had been a few times when he’d assumed it was Bendy and just started talking about what was for dinner. Henrietta couldn’t really read lips, so she was just stuck standing there until James either realized his mistake or Bendy came in and corrected him. Both Henrietta and Bendy liked giving James a hard time about this. 

The only downside Henrietta had found to having two dads was that she had to endure twice the dad jokes. As soon as James and Bendy had decided to become fathers, Bendy had gone out and bought a book of dad jokes. Henrietta did not appreciate these jokes as much as her dads did. A common occurrence was her going up to one of her fathers and signing,

“Dad, I’m hungry.”

Her dads would pause for a moment, before slowly turning to her with a huge smile on their face and saying,

“Hello hungry, I’m Dad.”

Henrietta responded with a deadpan expression before repeating her message. Bendy was always a little disappointed when Henrietta didn’t seem to like his joke, but James took it in stride. Probably because he couldn’t see Henrietta’s disapproving glare. 

Being parents certainly did take some getting used to, but both James and Bendy were incredibly excited to be a part of Henrietta’s life and help her become the person she wanted to be.


	27. Control

Today is Control, and I’m going to do the [Fallen Angel AU](https://dumb-batim-aus.tumblr.com/post/182491919325/so-here-have-some-doodles-for-this-au-that-isnt) again. Because I want to.

* * *

Susie had always been very particular about control. Everything had to be just so. Allison had never really minded Susie telling her what to do, since she tended to be rather softspoken, but other people took great offense to being bossed around by a little blonde lady. Most other people, actually. Allison’s general reaction to confrontation was to back down, but Susie…Susie knew just how to twist the situation to her favor. She was always in control. 

There had been a male student in their art history class who’d objected to the fact that Susie had immediately taken over when they’d done a project together.

“I’m not just gonna let some girl tell me what to do.” He sneered. “You’ve probably been too busy doing your makeup to even pay attention anyway.” Allison internally winced. It was hard to predict what Susie’s reaction to things like this. Susie watched him for a moment, a cold and calculating look in her eyes. Then she smiled. 

“Oh, darlin’. You’re completely right. It would be sooo much better if you took over the project.” She batted her eyelashes, playing up her Southern drawl to an almost ridiculous extent. “My, I just don’t know where to start.” The male student blushed and stumbled over his words, the earlier slight forgotten.

“Are you really going to let him take over?” Allison whispered as he began to sketch out a plan. 

“Oh God no.” Susie snorted derisively. “He sleeps through every class. Do you really think I’m going to let **him** be in charge of this? We can just do the project behind his back and present our version.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Allison smiled in relief. She always got a little worried that Susie would overreact to things like this. Susie always got a little touchy when her pride was threatened. 

It only got worse as they got older, especially when the studio opened. Allison had initially just chalked it up to Susie being stressed. Getting something this big off the ground took a lot of work. Surely, that was the reason Susie had calmly threatened to shove a hairpin through the realtor’s eye when he’d asked why a nice girl like her would want to go into business. Surely, that was why Susie snapped at everyone who dared question her plans. Surely, that was why Susie was so hard on her and refused to let her take any breaks. She was just stressed. Allison kept telling herself that. Susie was just stressed. She didn’t mean to say such cruel things. 

Eventually, though, it grew too much. Even Allison had her breaking point and she reached it about a year into the studio. 

“You’re…what?”

“I’m quitting, Susie.” Allison pushed the papers toward her. 

“But- But this is _our_ studio!” Susie laughed as though she were trying to convince herself that this wasn’t happening. “You can’t just leave! I need you!”

“I can’t take this anymore, Susie.” Allison ran a hand through her hair. “I haven’t seen Linda in weeks, and I haven’t slept in a **real** bed in at least a month. I can’t keep up this pace. I need to rest.”

“You can work through it.” Susie softened her voice, reaching out to touch Allison’s hand. “You just need to believe.”

“My body can’t run on belief.” Allison snatched her hand away, her expression darkening. “I can’t do this anymore. I thought this would be a little more give and take, but all I do is give and all you do is take. We were supposed to be partners!” 

“We **are** partners!” Susie insisted. “Please, Alli, I can’t lose you!” Her lip started to quiver as her eyes filled with tears. 

“Oh, no. You are not pulling that trick on me!” Allison growled, a wave of anger overtaking her. “You don’t get to play with my emotions like this!” Almost immediately, the quivering lip and tears vanished. 

Susie sighed, a weary expression settling on her features. “Look, I’m sorry things have been so hard. I didn’t mean to end up working you this hard. But I really do need you. No one could ever replace you, Allison.”

She reached out and took Allison’s hand again, rubbing her thumb gently over Allison’s skin. Allison bit her lip, looking from her hand to Susie’s face. 

“I’m sorry, Susie.” She finally said. “But I really can’t do this anymore.” Susie stared at her blankly for a moment, then withdrew her hand. 

“Alright. If you’re sure.” She smiled sadly. “I wish you only the best.”

“You’ll do great, Susie, I know you will,” Allison reassured her. 

For a while, Allison was right. Susie Campbell Studios thrived. She expanded the studio, hired new employees, created a new character. She put on a cheerful facade for all who encountered her. But her darker side never went away. Susie had to have control. Anyone who challenged that control was silenced or rejected. 

Bertram was possibly the only person she’d ever met whose ego was as big as hers. Susie very much did not appreciate the challenge to her authority. She’d tried to get on his good side by batting her eyelashes and playing innocent, but he’d seen right through it. She dealt with him as she needed to. 

Sammy, her sweet little pawn, began to disagree with her. She’d used his little crush on her to get him to do some horrible things for her, but it seemed his stomach was just too weak for what she required. She gave him a chance to redeem himself before punishing him for his transgressions. 

She could not have anyone wresting control away from her. This was **her** studio, **her** dream. She would not have anyone stopping her. 

**_Dreams come true, Susie. Dreams come true._ **


	28. Door

Today is Door. I’m on a trip and very tired, so this is short. ^^”

* * *

There was a door in Joey’s kitchen that no one was allowed to touch. No one was entirely sure where it led, since there wasn’t a door on the other side of the wall. It certainly hadn’t been there when Joey had moved in, because Henry and Linda had helped him move in and they certainly didn’t remember it.

“Are you trying to copy the Winchester house or something?” Henry had asked once. 

“Something like that.” Joey had shrugged in reply. 

Henry’s granddaughter was captivated by the door, especially because she wasn’t allowed to touch it. Not being able to touch it made it far more interesting. She made up story after story about what could be behind that door, reading them with great enthusiasm to her family and Joey. Her favorite story was that there were monsters behind it and Joey was the only thing keeping them in check. 

“Uncle Joey’s the only thing keeping them from crawling out and killing us in our sleep.” She said with an adorably serious look on her face. “They want to rip our heads open and eat our brains.”

“She has such an imagination.” Henry always chuckled while internally deciding that she needed to watch fewer horror movies. Joey would say nothing just smiling and going back to his knitting. 

Only one person had ever tried to open the door. Allison had been over one evening to bring Joey some new recipes she’d found and had gotten curious about the door. She’d been over to his apartment a few times before, but had never gotten a concrete answer about what the door was or where it led. 

“What is this, anyway?” She asked, hand on the doorknob. “It doesn’t lead anywhere, does it?” She began to open it, only for Joey to violently pull her away. He had a terrifying look in his eyes that made her take a step back. 

“My apologies.” He quickly composed himself. “It just leads to a wall. Nothing interesting there. Unless you count half a dozen spiders as interesting.” 

“Ah, alright.” Allison laughed weakly. Something about his answer didn’t feel right, but she had a feeling she didn’t want to press the subject. 

The door remained closed to everyone but Joey. Only he knew what was truly behind it. 

.

_No matter how many loops he went through, he could never make it to the exit door. It taunted him, open a tantalizing sliver. He could hear whistling on the other side as he plummeted down into the lower levels. The only time he would ever go through that door was when Joey thrust him back into this Hell._


	29. Dream

Today is Dream.

* * *

Joey Drew was a man of dreams. At least, that was the image he presented to the world and many of his employees. He told everyone that if you just believed, your dreams would come true. Many young employees looked up to him because of this, putting their absolute faith in him and what he said. But he was a liar. Those closest to him knew all his talk of dreams meant absolutely nothing. 

“Why do you project this shit everywhere?” Tom asked. He’d come to give Joey the latest progress report on the Ink Machine to find Joey recording another one of his propaganda speeches. 

“Wouldn’t you rather have happy workers?” Joey gave him a big smile. He was still using his showman smile and voice. 

“Not sure this makes them happy.” Tom snorted derisively. 

“People eat this slop up.” Joey’s voice dropped an octave and his smile grew far more sinister. “Trust me, it makes ‘em happy to hear this stuff.” 

Tom was quite sure the other man was wrong, but he wasn’t going to push it. It just wasn’t worth it. Joey had it in his mind that this was the way to control his ‘sheep’ and he wasn’t going to listen to anything Tom had to say. He never listened to anyone.

**_For all your talk of dreams, you are the true architect behind so many nightmares._ **

Joey Drew spewed talk of dreams in public while orchestrating the nightmares of his employees in secrets. He twisted Sammy and Grant’s minds, driving them to insanity. He manipulated Susie into sacrificing her life and mind to reclaim the role he’d stolen from her. He killed Norman, Lacie, and Bertram for getting in his way. His talk of dreams meant nothing in the end. 

**_Joey always lied._ **

Tom hadn’t believed a word that had come out of Joey’s mouth from the very beginning. He knew a snake-oil salesman when he saw one. But Joey was paying, so he went along with it. By the time he realized just how insane Joey was, he was in too deep to back out.

“What are you even trying to do?” He asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And don’t start talking about dreams or any of that crap.”

“I’m trying to make dreams come true,” Joey replied with a slightly unhinged smile. “ **My** dreams.”

“Jesus Christ,” Tom muttered. 

“Come on, Tommy,” Joey rose with the grace of a snake, wrapping an arm around Tom’s shoulder. “Don’t you want to make some dreams come true? Don’t you want to make _Miss Pendle’s_ dreams come true?”

“Don’t call me that.” Tom shoved him away. This wasn’t about dreams. It never had been. This was about money, plain and simple. 

“Well, it doesn’t matter if you believe me.” Joey continued to grin. “ ** _Someone_** will.”

Tom felt his stomach twist. What had he gotten himself into?


	30. Stories

Today is Stories. 

So I’m gonna dip into [this](https://queenofcats17.tumblr.com/post/180508880760/theres-no-shame-in-dreaming)

* * *

You’re 18 years and you’re sitting in Uncle Joey’s living room. Uncle Joey is knitting and you’re sitting on the couch with your notebook open on your lap. You were going to write but you now find your mind blank. You’re not sure why you came over here in the first place. It’s been a week since Uncle Joey finished the story of the studio. A story eleven years in the making. You’re not sure how you feel about the story now that it’s over. It’s one you’ve been hearing ever since you were a child and it’s strange to have it just be over. 

You turn your gaze to Uncle Joey, trying to picture him as the man he’d once been. You’ve heard stories from Grandpa Henry about what Uncle Joey used to be like. Grandpa Henry says Uncle Joey was a great businessman who knew just the right way to talk to people. Grandma Linda says he used to be rather arrogant. You’re not sure which one to believe. You suppose now that you’re older you can see some of Uncle Joey’s arrogance, especially in the story he’s told you over the years. Mrs. Connor tells lots of stories about Uncle Joey too. Very few of them are from the studio. 

“Is something wrong?” You’re jolted back to reality by Uncle Joey’s voice. 

“You’ve been staring at me for quite a while now.” Uncle Joey continues, looking up from his knitting. “Have I done something?”

“Oh, uh, no.” You look sheepishly away. “I was just…thinking about the story, that’s all.”

“Ah.” His face falls a bit. 

There are a few moments of silence, punctuated by Uncle Joey’s knitting needles clicking together. 

“Do you ever miss it?” You ask. “The studio, I mean.”

“Sometimes.” Uncle Joey shrugs. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss being in charge of that place. Of making Bendy live.” His hands falter for a moment and you hear his breath hitch. 

You glance to the framed picture of Bendy, Boris, and Alice that hangs on the wall, signed by your grandfather. “You really love them, don’t you?”

“Not the way I should have.” Uncle Joey sighs heavily. “I was only ever interested in the money. Not like your grandfather or Miss Campbell.”

“Oh.” The uncomfortable feeling in your stomach returns. You know now that your Uncle Joey wasn’t the best person. You don’t know if you like it. But you’re old enough now to know that the world isn’t black and white. 

“You’re very much like your grandfather, you know.” Uncle Joey smiles at you. “Hearing you talk about your stories reminds me of Henry when we were young.”

“Thank you.” You smile back. You shuffle your notebook awkwardly. You’re still not sure what to write. All your thoughts are swimming in your mind. You can’t seem to figure out how to put them in order. 

“Uncle Joey?” You begin to gnaw on your lip. “Do you think…Do you think I’ll be okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“Mom and Dad seem really worried.” You fiddle with your pen. “About me. They think I won’t be able to make a living as a writer.” 

Uncle Joey is quiet for a moment, then reaches out to touch your hand. “Keep telling your stories, sweetheart. Maybe you won’t be rich, but you’ll be happy.”

“But, will I be okay?” You ask, grabbing his hand with both of yours. Your parents haven’t talked about this in a long time, but you still worry. They’re right. It **is** hard to make a living as an artist. You don’t want to disappoint them.

“You’ll be okay.” Uncle Joey assures you. “You’re a smart girl and I know your family would never abandon you.” You draw back a bit, unsure whether you believe him or not. You’re still worried.

“Keep telling your stories.” Uncle Joey repeats. “Trust me, we need people like you around.” You turn your gaze to his face. Your Uncle Joey looks tired. But then again, he always does. His smile is soft and gentle, and you do believe that he has faith in you. 

“Okay.” You manage a smile. 

“Good.” Uncle Joey settles back in his chair. “The world would be a very dark place without storytellers.”

“Okay, Uncle Joey.” You laugh, picking up your pen once more. You’ve got a really good idea for a story.


	31. Free Day

Today is a free day, so I’m going to go back to one of the first AU’s I encountered that got me into this game. 

The [False Protagonists AU](https://disneyphantomlover.tumblr.com/tagged/false-protagonists-au) belongs to [@disneyphantomlover](https://tmblr.co/mtxWKjFluVA2ChP3UkW9yuw)

* * *

The world was in a constant state of flux. Things changed, people grew older. Nothing ever stayed the same for long. Cordelia had never expected things at the studio to change as much as they did, nor the people to change as much as they had. She was not the same girl who’d answered that ad in the paper all those years ago, nor were those who had escaped the studio the same people they’d been while there. She would be lying if she said she didn’t still miss Sammy Wes, but Boris was a very good boy and she loved him very much.

She spent more time at the Ross house than she had expected, but thankfully Becca and Henry were very understanding. Even when she brought in the script for the school musical for the toons to test out. 

“ **Why do _you_ get to be the princess?**” Alice demanded, arms folded. 

“ ** _Because I look better in a tutu than you do_**.” Bendy stuck his tongue out at her. Cordelia stifled a giggle from her place on the couch. Boris had already decided that he was going to be the dragon, so there were no problems from him.

“ **The princess doesn’t even _wear_ a tutu!**” Alice huffed.

“ ** _She could!_** ”

“Are you hungry, Bo?” Cordelia asked. “I brought some cookies.” Boris perked up a bit, looking over. His face was hard to see in the dragon costume, but Cordelia was fairly certain he was interested. 

“ **What kinda cookies?** ” He asked slowly.

“Well.” She pulled out a tin of cookies. “Roy’s been trying out some new recipes and he found one for s’mores cookies-”

“ ** _COOKIES?!_** ” Bendy and Alice both stopped their fighting, heads snapping around to face Boris and Cordelia. 

“Don’t feed them too much,” Becca said, poking her head into the living room. “Dinner is in an hour and I don’t want them to get sick.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Cordelia stifled a laugh. Alice and Bendy scrambled over to the couch as Cordelia opened the tin. 

“So, the base is a pretty standard cookie, but crushed graham crackers, chocolate chip cookies, and marshmallows were added in to make it a s’mores cookies.” She explained, handing each toon one cookie. The cookies were quickly gobbled down, the toons’ eyes sparkling with wonder. 

“ ** _It’s like a s’more in a cookie!!_** ” Bendy exclaimed, jumping up and down. 

“ **It’s so good!** ” Alice agreed, similarly excitable. Boris tried to reach for another cookie, only to have his hand slapped away. 

“Becca said dinner is in an hour.” Cordelia chided him. “You can have more afterward.” Boris pouted, sinking down on the couch in his costume. 

“ **This is stupid.** ” He grumbled. 

“You’ll ruin your dinner if you eat all the cookies.” Cordelia removed the head of the costume to pat Boris between the ears. Boris grumbled again, hunching his shoulders. He’d done this before. It was an attempt to tell her that she would not be forgiven, even if she gave him head pats and ear scritches.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” Cordelia said, shifting her hand to start scratching in the spot behind his ear that he really liked. 

“ **No! I’m not givin’ in!** ” He shook his head, but they could all see his tail beginning to wag. 

“Are you sure?” Cordelia grinned, continuing to scratch that good place behind his ear. Alice and Bendy both stifled snickers. Boris could always be defeated by ear scritches, a fact that infuriated the wolf to no end. He did, in the end, give in, starting to pant excitedly and wag his tail as Cordelia found the right spot, allowing her to put the cookies away again.

“ **Don’t say anythin’,** ” Boris growled when Cordelia stopped. 

“ ** _Us? Say stuff? Why would we do that?_** ” Bendy asked innocently. 

“ **We would never!** ” Alice reeled back in feigned horror. 

“Alright, dinner’s ready!” Henry yelled. “Everyone wash up and get in here!” The toons quickly scrambled away to wash up for dinner. Cordelia got up as well, hiding away her things so that the toons wouldn’t try to sneak any more cookies. When she entered the dining room, Becca and Henry were setting out the food while the toons set the table. 

“Is there anything I can do?” Cordelia asked. 

“Could you get some napkins?” Becca gestured to the cabinet.

“Bo and Bendy can get a bit messy,” Henry added. 

“ ** _We do not!_** ” Bendy protested. 

“You do when we have sloppy joe’s,” Becca said. This silenced both boys, who looked sheepishly away. 

“ **Ha!** ” Alice smirked at the other two. Cordelia stifled a snort, going to get the napkins. She liked the Ross household. Things were always so lively there. It eased the pain that still remained in her heart. 

“So, did you ever decide which one of you got to be the princess?” Henry asked once they’d all sat down. 

“Unfortunately, no.” Cordelia sighed, anticipating the fight that was about to start again.

“ ** _It’s obvious. I’m gonna be the princess,_** ” Bendy said, puffing his chest out. 

“ **I told you, the princess doesn’t even _wear_ a tutu!**” Alice rolled her eyes. “ **I look way better in a dress than you do, anyway.** ”

“ ** _Do not!_** ” 

“ **Do too!** ”

Meanwhile, Boris contented himself with scarfing down his sandwich. He didn’t care which one of them got to be the princess. Just as long as he was allowed to be the dragon, he was fine.

“I don’t suppose **both** of them could be the princess?” Becca smiled wearily toward Cordelia, who apologetically shook her head. 

“Oh well.” Henry shrugged. “We’ll figure something out later.”

“Of course.” Cordelia turned back to her plate, smiling to herself. She liked being around so much noise. The quiet was always so unbearable. Roy didn’t need her as much as he used to, starting to go out with friends he’d made. He was rebuilding his life. So she should too. She couldn’t bear to be in that silent house all by herself. 

Looking out at the assembled members of the Ross family, she felt a warmth in her heart. This was good. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is mostly just me having fun, but I still hope you still like these.  
> Thank you for your support. I appreciate every comment you all leave


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